Frank  Bran&vyn 


AND  HIS 

WALTER  SHAW-5PARRO 


THE  J.  PAUL  GETTY  MUSEUM  LIBRARY 


4 


FRANK  BRANGWYN 

AND  HIS  WORK 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2016 


https://archive.org/details/frankbrangwynhis00spar_0 


FRANK  BRANGWYN 

AND  HIS  WORK.  1910 


BY  WALTER  SHAW-SPARROW 

WITH  THE  APPENDICES  REVISED  AND 
BROUGHT  DOWN  TO  1914  BY  FRANK  BRANGWYN 


THE  PAGE  COMPANY 

53  BEACON  STREET,  BOSTON 

1917 


PRINTED  IN  GREAT  BRITAIN 


The  rights  of  translation  and  reproduction  are  reserved 


i'Y  MUSEUM  LIBRARY 


CHARLES  HOLME  Esq 


FOUNDER  AND  EDITOR  OF 


THE  STUDIO  MAGAZINE 


PREFACE 


I HAVE  to  express  grateful  thanks  for  assistance  in 
many  forms  rendered  to  me  during  the  production 
of  this  book.  It  is  through  the  courtesy  of  M. 
Pacquement,  the  present  owner  of  “ Buccaneers,”  that 
I have  been  able  to  include  a reproduction  of  that  famous 
picture,  the  blocks  being  made  specially  in  Paris.  Much 
help  has  been  received  from  the  Skinners’  Company,  from 
Lloyd’s  Register,  from  the  Royal  Exchange,  and  from  the 
Art  Gallery  of  Leeds,  by  whose  courteous  permission 
seven  copyright  works  are  here  illustrated.  It  is  a great 
pleasure  also  to  acknowledge  with  thanks  the  assistance 
given  me  by  Mr.  T.  L.  Devitt,  Mr.  R.  H.  Kitson,  Mr.  S. 
Wilson,  Dr.  Tom  Robinson,  Mr.  Haldane  Macfall,  Mr. 
Warwick  H.  Draper,  Mr.  W.  Gibbings,  Mr.  H.  F.  W. 
Ganz,  Mr.  B.  W.  Willett,  and  Mr.  Frederic  Whyte;  by 
Mr.  Collier  of  New  York ; by  M.  Pacquement,  M.  Stany 
Oppenheim,  and  M.  Bramson  of  Paris ; and  by  Herr  Ernst 
Arnold  of  Dresden.  To  Messrs.  Gibbings  & Co.  I am 
indebted  for  the  use  of  their  blocks  of  the  illustration, 
“ Queen  Elizabeth  going  aboard  the  Golden  Hindi ’ To 
Messrs.  Swain,  the  London  blockmakers,  and  Mr.  Edmund 
Evans,  the  printer  of  the  colour-plates,  I owe  a special 

b vii 


‘Preface 


word  of  acknowledgment  for  the  care  and  skill  they  have 
brought  to  their  anxious  work.  The  making  of  compara- 
tively small  illustrations  of  very  large  pictures  is  a matter 
of  the  greatest  difficulty,  more  especially  when  the  works 
in  question  involve  special  journeys  to  public  buildings  and 
to  private  galleries  out  of  London. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  STUDIES  . 

CHAPTER  II 


LATER  STUDIES 


CHAPTER  III 

CONTESTS  OF  CRITICISM:  “A  FUNERAL  AT  SEA,”  “THE  BUC- 
CANEERS,” “SLAVE  TRADERS,”  AND  “A  SLAVE  MARKET”  . 

CHAPTER  IV 

CONTESTS  OF  CRITICISM:  SUN-COLOUR  AND  RELIGIOUS  ART  . 

CHAPTER  V 

CHARACTERISTICS  : LIGHT  AND  COLOUR 

CHAPTER  VI 

LIGHT  AND  COLOUR  ( continued ) 


CHAPTER  VII 

SOME  OTHER  CHARACTERISTICS 

CHAPTER  VIII 


DECORATIVE  PAINTING  . 


CHAPTER  IX 


PAGE 

I 


16 


36 


53 


74 


88 


104 


1 18 


DECORATIVE  PAINTING  (continued) 


IX 


132 


Contents 


CHAPTER  X 

PAGE 

POINTS  OF  VIEW  IN  DECORATIVE  ART  : AND  THE  SKINNERS’ 

HALL  ..............  144. 

CHAPTER  XI 

SKETCHES  AND  STUDIES 164 

CHAPTER  XII 

WATER-COLOURS 175 

CHAPTER  XIII 

ILLUSTRATIONS  FOR  MAGAZINES  AND  BOOKS— DESIGNS  FOR 

POSTERS 180 

CHAPTER  XIV 

ETCHINGS  : AND  SUMMARY  OF  CHARACTERISTICS  ....  185 

CHAPTER  XV 

DESIGNS  FOR  HOUSE  FURNISHING  ........  206 

APPENDICES 

1.  PICTURES  AND  SKETCHES 219 

II.  ETCHINGS— CLASSIFIED 238 

III.  LITHOGRAPHS 255 

IV.  BIBLIOGRAPHY 257 

INDEX  261 


X 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


COLOUR  PLATES 

A River  Procession  to  Westminster  in  1453 — City 

AND  TRADE  BARGES Frontispiece 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Skinners'  Company,  London.  Copy- 
right. 

Montreuil:  Cottage  Landscape Facing p.  8 

Reproduced from  a small  Oil-Painting.  Copyright. 

The  Bridge  of  Alcantara 12 

Reproduced from  the  Water-Colour.  Copyright. 

The  Buccaneers 36 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  M.  Pacquement,  Paris.  Copyright. 

Harvesters 48 

Reproduced from  the  large  Oil-Painting.  Copyright. 

The  Rajah’s  Birthday 84 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  R.  H.  Kitson,  Esq.,  Leeds.  Copyright. 

The  Brass  Shop 8S 

Reproduced from  the  large  Oil-Painting.  Copyright. 

Mars  and  Venus „ 92 

Reproduced  from  the  large  Oil-Painting  in  the  Municipal  Art 
Gallery,  Dublin.  Copyright. 

The  Card  Players n 95 

Reproduced from  the  large  Oil-Painting.  Copyright. 


XI 


List  of  Illustrations 

The  Return  from  the  Promised  Land 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Art  Gallery  at  Johannesburg. 
Copyright. 

Facing  p.  100 

The  Venetian  Funeral 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Leeds  Art  Gallery.  Copyright. 

„ 112 

A Still-Life  Study  of  Leeks 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  R.  H.  Kitson,  Esq.,  Leeds.  Copyright. 

„ 128 

Queen  Elizabeth  Going  Aboard  the  “ Golden  Hind” 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  Lloyd' s Register.  Copyright. 

„ 132 

Blake’s  Return  after  the  Capture  of  the  Plate 
Spiips 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  Lloy o’ j Register.  Copyright. 

„ 136 

The  Fruits  of  Industry 

Reproduced from  tke  large  Panel  in  Tempera.  Copyright. 

a *44 

Reception  of  General  Monk  at  the  Skinners’  Hall, 
4th  April  1660  ........ 

Reproduced  by  permission  of  the  Skinners'  Company.  Copyright. 

„ 152 

Life  among  the  Ruins,  Messina,  1910  .... 

Reproduced from  a Water-Colour.  Copyright. 

„ 176 

The  Duomo,  Messina,  1910 

Reproduced from  a Water-Colour.  Copyright. 

O 

CO 

The  Weavers:  a Decorative  Panel  in  the  Leeds 
Art  Gallery  

Reproduced  by  permission.  Copyright. 

„ 212 

Design  for  a Fan 

From  “ History  of  the  Fan,"  by  G.  Woolliscroft  Rhead.  Copyright. 

xii 

„ 216 

List  of  Illustrations 


COLLOTYPE  PLATES 


Blacksmiths Facing  p. 

From  a IVall-Panel  in  the  Leeds  Art  Gallery.  Copyright. 


Platelayers  

From  an  Original  Lithograph.  Copyright. 


The  Baptism  of  Christ 

From  the  Oil- Painting  now  in  the  Art  Gallery  at  Stuttgart.  Copyright. 


The  Windmill,  Dixmude  . 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Copyright. 


The  Departure  of  Columbus 

From  a Decorative  Panel  belonging  to  the  Proprietor  of  “ Collier' s 
Weekly,"  A’ew  York,  U.S.A.  Copyright. 


Santa  Maria  della  Salute 

From  the  Oil-Painting  in  the  Wellington  Art  Gallery , Arew  Zealand. 
Copyright. 


Old  Houses,  Ghent  . 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Copyright. 


Modern  Commerce 

From  the  Fresco  in  the  Royal  Exchange,  London,  Copyright. 


Music  .... 

* * * . • • f) 

From  an  Original  Lithograph.  Copyright. 


Unloading  Oranges  at  London  Bridge 

From  an  Original  Lithograph.  Copyright. 


The  Loom 

From  an  Original  Lithograph.  Copyright. 


xiii 


6 

20 

63 

8o 

104 

120 

124 

140 

164 

168 

172 


List  of  Illustrations 

The  Black  Mill,  Winchelsea 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Copyright. 

Facing  p.  188 

The  Tow-Rope 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Copyright. 

,,  192 

The  Sawyers 

From  an  Original  Etchitig.  Copyright. 

„ 196 

Old  Hammersmith 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Copyright. 

„ 200 

Santa  Maria  della  Salute 

From  an  Original  Etching.  Gold  Medal , Venice  International 
Exhibition , 1907  ; Grand  Prix,  International  Exhibition , 
Milan,  1906.  Copyright. 

„ 204 

XIV 


FRANK  BRANGWYN 


AND  HIS  WORK 

CHAPTER  I 

PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  STUDIES 

A S many  painters  have  been  affected  throughout  life  by 
/\  inherited  gifts  and  inclinations,  it  is  proper  to  note 
/ \ at  once  that  Frank  Brangwyn  is  partly  Welsh  and 
partly  English ; his  father  belonged  to  an  Anglo- 
Welsh  family  living  in  Buckinghamshire,  and  his  mother, 
nde  Griffiths,  is  a Welsh  lady  from  Brecon.  One  cannot 
mention  this  blend  of  races  without  thinking  of  an  earlier 
painter  of  note,  Peter  De  Wint,  whose  parentage  gave  him 
two  nationalities,  Dutch  and  Scotch,  and  who  developed 
traits  from  both  in  his  personal  character,  and  also  in  his 
landscape  work.  De  Wint  was  a Scotsman  in  his  deep 
and  rich  harmonies  of  colour,  as  well  as  in  simple  breadth 
of  technique,  while  his  favourite  themes  were  as  Dutch  in 
their  low  horizons  as  flat  country  scenes  in  England  would 
allow  them  to  be.  Again,  De  Wint  is  not  a student  of 
clouds,  like  Constable.  His  thoughts  keep  near  to  the 
earth,  just  as  Dutch  minds  for  centuries  have  concerned 
themselves  with  the  dykes  of  Holland  ; and  these  things 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

denoting  the  influence  of  a pedigree,  perhaps  Brangwyn, 
like  De  Wint,  inherits  much  from  his  parents.  It  is  a 
question  of  very  great  interest,  particularly  when  we  con- 
nect it  with  the  views  held  by  Matthew  Arnold  on  the 
Anglo-Celts. 

Matthew  Arnold’s  theory  was  that  England  has  owed 
her  finest  poetry  and  art  to  a fusion  of  Celtic  imagina- 
tion with  her  own  native  qualities.  Arnold  never  failed 
to  use  the  word  “ Celtic,”  but,  strictly  speaking,  this  term 
applied  to  only  one  type  of  the  inhabitants  of  Wales.  The 
pure  Celts  were  energetic  men  of  great  stature,  with  light 
hair  and  blue  eyes ; they  were  nomads  by  instinct,  they 
travelled  far,  peopled  France,  and  found  their  way  across 
the  Channel  into  Britain.  Some  ethnologists  think  that 
they  then  lost  their  own  distinction,  but  their  breed  is 
found  to  this  day  in  Wales,  tall  and  fair,  making  con- 
trasts with  the  primitive  type  of  Welshman,  who  is  short 
and  sturdy,  and  whose  lineage  is  probably  as  old  as  the 
Neolithic  inhabitants  of  England.  He  is  akin  to  the 
dark,  short,  oval-headed  people  with  small  features,  whom 
we  encounter  also  in  Cornwall,  the  Isle  of  Man,  Ireland, 
and  the  West  of  Scotland  as  far  north  as  the  Orkneys. 
Brangwyn — on  the  distaff  side  of  his  family — belongs  to 
this  dark  breed  of  virile  little  men,  whose  life-struggle 
from  prehistoric  times  has  served  to  prove  that  imagina- 
tion and  quick  emotion  and  tenacity  may  go  hand  in  hand 
with  indomitable  pluck. 

England  owes  innumerable  debts  of  gratitude  to  Welsh 
and  Celtic  imagination  and  emotion  ; while  from  other  races 
she  gets  a fitful  energy  and  the  joy  she  takes  in  wandering 
adventure. 


i Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

These  qualities  you  will  find  united  in  Frank  Brangwyn. 
Whether  the  Welsh  alone  would  ever  develop  great  art  is 
open  to  doubt,  because  their  national  love  for  music  does 
not,  as  a rule,  show  a preference  for  stringed  instruments ; 
and  their  gifts  for  eloquent  talk  break  through  the  self- 
discipline  that  art  finds  helpful.  On  the  other  hand,  Anglo- 
Welshmen  of  talent  are  emotional  in  a steadier  way,  though 
routine  worries  them.  Work  between  fixed  hours  does 
not  “set  their  genius.”  When  the  impulse  comes  they  toil 
as  a racehorse  runs,  stopping  when  their  emotion  and 
energy  are  spent.  I have  never  noticed  in  Anglo-Welsh 
artists  a patience  similar  to  that  which  Thackeray  admired 
in  his  little  painter-hero,  “ J.  J.”  Certainly  it  is  not  a trait 
in  Frank  Brangwyn,  who  paints  at  a white  heat  or  not 
at  all.  From  Wales,  too,  I think,  comes  his  great  liking 
for  what  may  be  called  tints  of  mountain  colour — heather 
tints,  the  hues  of  dried  ferns,  lichen  greys,  blue  distances, 
and  the  gleaming  yellow  of  gorse  blossoms.  In  his  colour 
there  is  a mingling  of  Eastern  sunlight  with  the  magic 
of  the  Welsh  hills.  When  painting  an  English  landscape 
he  sees  deeper  tones  than  do  our  English  eyes ; and  in 
this  he  resembles  De  Wint,  who  found  no  place  in  his  art 
for  wet  greens  that  flash  into  pale  brilliance.  But  Brangwyn 
is  not  drawn  to  Wales  by  any  strong  feeling  of  affection, 
although  his  art  owes  so  much  to  his  mother’s  race  and 
country,  and  although  his  father,  Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn, 
spoke  always  of  Wales  with  great  enthusiasm,  and  himself 
claimed  some  descent  from  that  country. 

Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn1  was  a very  remarkable  man,  and 

1 It  is  interesting  to  note  that  an  earlier  Brangwyn  had  turned  from  business  to  art, 
and  made  a reputation  for  himself.  This  was  Noah,  a great-uncle,  I believe,  of  Frank 
Brangwyn.  He  spelt  the  last  syllable  of  his  surname  with  an  “i,”  Brangwin,  and  was 

3 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

his  name  has  been  coupled  with  that  of  Pugin,  for  he 
greatly  loved  Gothic  and  helped  to  reawaken  the  public 
taste  for  mediaeval  arts  and  crafts.  His  temperament  was 
Anglo-Welsh ; and  when  he  chose  architecture  as  his  pro- 
fession, he  did  not  know  that  building  methods  had  lost 
their  old-time  freedom,  and  that  they  needed  long  office 
hours  and  stern  business  habits.  Painting  would  have 
suited  him  much  better ; and  although  he  gained  the 
confidence  and  admiration  of  distinguished  architects  like 
G.  E.  Street  and  Sir  Horace  Jones,  Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn 
was  thwarted  all  his  life  by  his  inability  to  be  at  the  same 
moment  an  artist  and  a man  of  business.  Many  writers  on 
architecture  have  deplored  the  effects  of  a mercantile  routine 
on  men  of  imagination.  Fergusson  went  so  far  as  to  say 
that  modern  architects  in  practice  “ could  never  afford  to  give 
many  hours  to  the  artistic  elaboration  of  their  designs,”  and 
that  they  generally  succeeded  “ more  from  their  business- 
like habits  than  their  artistic  powers.”  Fergusson  was  right, 
and  the  career  of  Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn  was  a case  in  point. 
The  racehorse  could  not  be  broken  to  the  plough ; that 
is  to  say,  the  artist  could  not  adapt  himself  to  relentless 
methods  of  routine  in  a city  office,  so  he  worked  in  the 
employ  of  other  men  rather  than  bear  the  many  respon- 
sibilities that  Fergusson  hated  and  condemned. 

Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn  married  early,  and  his  education 
in  architecture  having  brought  him  in  touch  with  the 
energetic  school  of  thought  known  as  the  Gothic  Revival, 

living  at  Henley-on-Thames  in  1854,  when  he  sent  two  pictures  to  the  Royal  Academy, 
entitled  “Welsh  Sheep”  and  “The  Watchman.”  The  following  year  he  was  represented 
by  “The  Ploughman’s  Meal,”  and  in  1856  by  “A  Berkshire  Lane.”  His  name  does  not 
appear  again  in  the  R.A.  catalogues.  It  has  not  been  my  good  luck  to  see  any  of  his 
work,  but  his  subjects  prove  that  he  was  attracted  by  rustic  life. 

4 


‘Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

he  kept  his  home  for  some  time  by  doing  for  church  uses 
such  work  as  many  could  afford  to  buy.  Then,  believing 
that  life  on  the  Continent  would  be  less  expensive  than 
it  was  in  London,  he  decided  to  make  his  home  in  Belgium, 
at  Bruges ; here  he  set  up  his  quarters  at  No.  24  in  the 
Rue  du  Vieux  Bourg,  and  then  opened  workrooms  for 
the  reproduction  of  old  embroideries  for  altar-cloths  and 
vestments.  At  Bruges  his  son  Frank  was  born,  May  the 
1 2th,  1867.  Mrs.  Brangvvyn  was  then  twenty-three,  and 
her  husband  twenty-seven.  Frank  Brangwyn  was  their 
third  child.  He  had  two  sisters  for  playmates,  and  Bruges 
— she  has  been  called  the  Dead  City — was  a quiet  nursery. 
One  thinks  of  Bruges  as  a fitting  birthplace  for  a Fernand 
Khnopff  or  a Maeterlinck;  but  Brangwyn  and  Bruges? 
Have  they  anything  more  in  common  than  Rubens  had 
with  his  birthplace  in  a foreign  land,  the  little  town  of 
Siegen,  in  the  Duchy  of  Nassau  ? 

And  I find,  too,  that  Brangwyn  has  very  little  to  tell 
about  his  birthplace,  though  he  remained  there  for  eight 
years.  Some  recollections  are  clear-cut,  but  they  have 
nothing  to  do  with  boyish  mischief  in  the  town.  They 
are  all  connected  with  art.  He  remembers  many  a visit 
to  his  father’s  workrooms,  where  exquisite  needlework  lay 
on  tables,  shimmering  with  bright  colours  ; and  one  day  in 
his  father's  garden  he  found  by  chance  a bundle  of  photo- 
graphic negatives,  half  broken,  and  looking  up  from  them 
he  saw,  against  a background  of  houses  and  blue  sky,  a 
tree  covered  with  red  blossoms,  such  as  the  Japanese  love 
in  their  lightly  touched  prints.  Colour  was  to  him  what 
music  was  to  the  boy  Mozart.  He  has  related — in  an 
article  that  appeared  in  M.A.P.,  February  27,  1904 — that 

5 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

the  home  garden  in  old  Bruges  was  an  enchanted  place 
to  him,  where  great  beasts  lurked  in  the  shadows,  where 
trees  were  giants  and  ogres,  and  flowers  little  lords  and 
ladies. 

More  important  still,  I think,  is  another  recollection. 
There  was  a portfolio  of  prints  at  home,  and  the  boy  was 
allowed  to  play  with  it.  A good  many  artists  were  re- 
presented, but  only  one  really  delighted  him  ; it  was  Charles 
Degroux,  a painter  of  the  Belgian  poor,  who  died  in  1870. 
Some  critics  have  compared  Degroux  with  J.  Israels,  be- 
cause both  are  masters  of  pathos.  But  Degroux  is  the 
better  colourist,  and  his  brushwork  is  nearer  to  John 
Phillip’s  than  to  that  of  the  modern  Dutchman.  For  the 
rest,  Degroux  loves  cottages,  garrets,  taverns  and  alleys, 
and  his  feeling  for  the  drama  of  poverty  is  so  deep  and 
true  that  he  has  been  called  the  painter  of  social  in- 
equalities. Degroux  never  laughs  in  his  work,  like  David 
Wilkie,  nor  does  he  pass  through  character  into  idylls, 
like  William  Hunt.  It  will  be  remembered  how  Ruskin 
praised  Hunt’s  water-colour  of  an  old  peasant  in  the  act 
of  praying  before  he  takes  his  dinner.  Degroux  painted 
a similar  work,  “Saying  Grace,”  now  in  the  Brussels 
Museum,  but  the  emotion  here  has  a subtle  depth  of  effect 
that  Hunt  never  felt  in  his  presentation  of  character.  The 
Belgian  painter  is  not  concerned  with  an  idyllic  piety ; he 
sees  below  the  surface  of  life,  and  finds  in  the  garret  of 
a poor  family  that  pathetic  tragedy  of  temperament,  that 
compulsion  of  circumstances,  from  which  good  and  evil 
spring  at  the  same  moment. 

Yet  Brangwyn  at  the  age  of  eight  not  only  enjoyed 
Degroux,  but  struggled  to  copy  from  engravings  after 
6 


BLACKSMITHS. 


! Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

Degroux’s  pictures.  The  boy  was  father  to  the  man.  His 
present  work  (to  a great  extent)  was  foretold  by  his  native 
tastes  in  childhood.  The  same  inborn  liking  for  what 
is  typically  modern  and  industrial  may  be  found  in  the 
noble  drawing  by  which  he  commemorated  the  funeral 
of  Edward  the  Seventh  — a drawing  published  in  the 
Standard  newspaper.  Photographers,  with  one  accord, 
took  their  stand  in  thronged  streets.  Brangwyn  chose  the 
railway  station  at  Paddington,  and  in  his  rapid  drawing 
a flash  of  sunlight  comes  down  through  the  glazed  roof 
and  rests  on  King  Edward’s  coffin  and  the  mourners 
gathered  about  the  train.  This  touches  the  heart  of  our 
time.  The  railway  station  looks  as  quiet  as  Westminster 
Hall,  and  it  represents  the  genius  of  modern  life  and 
industry,  as  that  Hall  typifies  for  us  the  spirit  of  home 
in  bygone  ages. 

At  the  beginning  of  1875  Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn  left 
Bruges  for  England.  “ I remember  dimly  our  embarka- 
tion, though  it  might  have  resulted  in  the  days  of  my 
youth  being  ended  once  for  all,  for — at  least,  so  I am  told — 
I was  discovered  crawling  along  one  of  the  sponsons  of 
the  steamer.  From  this  highly  perilous  position  I was 
rescued  in  the  nick  of  time,  and — here  recollection  becomes 
more  vivid — soundly  spanked  and  put  to  bed.  In  England 
I went  first  of  all  to  a dame’s  school,  and  then  to  a big 
middle-class  school,  the  name  of  which  has  totally  escaped 
me.  For  reasons  into  which  I need  not  enter,  but  which 
have  nothing  to  do  with  myself,  my  schooldays  came  to 
an  abrupt  end,  and  I made  myself  useful  in  my  father’s 
office.” 

When  Mr.  Curtis  Brangwyn  arrived  in  London  he 

7 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  Work 

took  an  office  at  No.  6 John  Street,  Adelphi,  and  sent  two 
architectural  designs  to  the  Royal  Academy,  “ Hastings 
Town  Hall,”  and  “ Schools  of  the  Grocers’  Company, 
Hackney.”  Next  year,  1876,  he  exhibited  again,  “De- 
sign for  Offices  of  the  Board  of  Works  at  Greenwich,”  and 
also,  in  1879,  “Yarmouth  Town  Hall,”  and  a fine  sketch 
in  water-colour  of  a pulpit  at  Canford  Church.  The  R.A. 
catalogues  give  me  no  other  information,  but  Mr.  Curtis 
Brangwyn  is  permanently  represented  at  the  Victoria  and 
Albert  Museum  by  a beautiful  piece  of  embroidery — a 
banner  carried  out  from  his  designs  in  his  own  establish- 
ment. After  a life  of  hard  work,  chequered  with  ups  and 
downs,  he  died  in  December  1907. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  the  seventies  were  very 
important  years  artistically.  Aestheticism  came  into  vogue* 
with  its  limp  clothes  and  forlornly  gentle  ideals,  looking 
very  absurd  in  the  pea-soup  fogs  of  that  time.  In  1878 
Whistler  and  Ruskin  fought  their  battle  in  the  law  courts, 
and  modern  art  won  a new  farthing  as  a shining  plaster 
for  its  injuries.  If  Ruskin  had  been  foreman  of  the  jury 
perhaps  the  damages  would  have  been  higher,  for  he  tried 
always  to  be  fair  when  he  held  a position  of  trust  as  an  on- 
looker. In  those  days,  again,  a very  distinguished  French 
artist,  Alphonse  Legros,  was  already  at  work  in  London, 
trying  to  recover  for  us  the  art  of  teaching  the  arts,  that 
had  been  allowed  to  decline  very  much  since  the  great 
era  of  Reynolds,  Gainsborough,  and  Turner.  Professor 
Legros  was  the  first  of  the  foreign  artists  to  whom  England 
would  soon  owe  many  debts  of  gratitude,  both  directly  and 
indirectly — directly,  as  in  the  work  of  Mr.  Sargent,  Mr. 
Abbey,  Mr.  J.  J.  Shannon,  and  others;  indirectly  through 
8 


‘Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

the  English  students  who  studied  in  continental  schools  and 
through  the  sale  of  the  best  foreign  pictures  in  England. 
It  was  in  1877,  after  much  hesitation,  that  the  Paris  Salon 
made  its  famous  compromise  with  the  Realists,  accepting 
Manet’s  portrait  of  the  singer  Faure  in  the  part  of  Hamlet, 
but  rejecting  his  “ Nana.” 

It  is  pleasant  to  recall  the  enthusiasms  then  in  vogue : 
the  earnest  efforts,  the  talk  about  pictures,  how  dealers 
besieged  many  a painter,  and  that  few  persons  ever  dared 
to  admit  they  had  neglected  to  spend  their  shillings  on 
exhibitions  and  on  catalogues  worth  twopence  apiece.  The 
golden  age  of  art  had  come  to  grim  old  London  ! Many 
thought  so,  and  the  belief  lasted  for  some  years,  thanks 
to  the  fervour  of  those  who  went  to  the  Grosvenor  Gallery 
as  pilgrims  go  to  Mecca.  Perhaps  ordinary  folk  liked 
W.  P.  Frith  at  the  Royal  Academy  very  much  better  than 
E.  Burne-Jones  at  the  Grosvenor  ; but  Rossetti  assured  all 
the  world  that  pictures  by  Burne-Jones  were  unrivalled 
for  “gorgeous  variegation  of  colour,  sustained  pitch  of 
imagination,  and  wistful,  sorrowful  beauty ; all  conspiring 
to  make  them  not  only  unique  in  English  work,  but  in  the 
work  of  all  times  and  nations.”  You  remember?  Art  was 
very  dreamful  and  serious.  “ Have  you  seen  Burne-Jones  ? ” 
was  a question  to  awe  any  one,  for  it  was  spoken  always 
with  so  much  fervour  that  you  could  not  say  “ No,”  lest 
your  artistic  reputation  should  die  there  and  then.  Yes,  it 
was  a keen,  ardent  time,  and  a boy  like  Frank  Brangwyn, 
eager  and  quick,  could  see  in  many  places  during  the  next 
six  years  an  unusual  number  of  differing  aims,  and  could 
get  from  them  something  for  his  own  future.  Millais, 
Orchardson,  Watts,  Leighton,  Whistler,  Tissot,  Albert 
b 9 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  Urork 

Moore,  Holman  Hunt,  Pettie,  Herkomer,  Legros,  Bastien- 
Lepage,  Alma-Tadema,  Fantin-Latour,  Cecil  Lawson  (he 
died  in  1882,  aged  thirty-one),  Rossetti,  Ouless,  Frank 
Holl  (elected  A.R.A.  in  1878),  made  some  among  the 
many  contrasts  that  gave  variety  to  picture  galleries. 
Fred  Walker  (1840-1875)  and  George  Mason  (1818-1872) 
were  dead,  but  their  paintings  were  to  be  seen  here  and 
there,  all  high-minded,  serene  and  sweet,  but  without  the 
seriousness,  the  depth  of  perception,  the  vigour  of  drawing 
that  appeal  to  us  from  the  work  of  Brangwyn’s  fore- 
runners, Millet,  Meunier,  Degroux,  and  Legros.  Is  it  not 
singular  that  Englishmen — a race  of  sportsmen  and  athletes 
— should  prefer  in  art  the  more  feminine  qualities  of  style  ? 

So,  in  an  atmosphere  of  enthusiasm,  when  the  ^Es- 
thetic period  made  great  ado  about  Oscar  Wilde  and 
pre-Raphaelite  visions,  Frank  Brangwyn  began  to  find 
himself  as  an  art  student,  after  attending  day  schools 
for  his  general  education.  The  etchings  of  Legros,  ex- 
hibited in  a shop  near  the  British  Museum,  were  one 
useful  influence,  and  he  was  only  about  thirteen  when 
he  first  found  his  way  to  the  South  Kensington  Museum, 
pencil  in  hand,  and  made  drawings  of  whatever  struck 
his  fancy.  Visitors  took  notice  of  him,  stopping  to  look 
at  his  work.  Among  them  was  Mr.  Harold  Rathbone, 
an  artist,  who  at  once  offered  cricitisms,  and  then  set 
him  to  work  from  the  early  Florentine  sculptors.  The 
lad  was  delighted.  With  a hard  pencil  he  drew  for 
months  on  very  smooth  white  paper,  copying  the  reliefs 
of  Donatello,  and  doing  whatever  Mr.  Rathbone  wished. 
It  is  never  easy  to  train  a young  hand  to  represent  in 
hard  outlines  what  the  eyes  are  trying  to  analyse. 


! Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

This  long  task  has  broken  many  a heart.  For  the 
eyes  throughout  a painter’s  life  do  at  least  four  times 
as  much  work  as  the  hand  succeeds  in  doing ; they  are 
trained  and  very  critical  long  before  manual  freedom 
has  been  gained  by  constant  practice.  It  is  certain,  then, 
that  very  close  and  definite  technique  is  a great  help  to 
a young  student,  teaching  him  to  be  patient  and  exact, 
to  dwell  lingeringly  over  the  rhythm  of  each  outline,  and 
to  store  up  in  his  memory  what  he  has  learnt.  At  the 
Brussels  Academy  I was  set  to  draw  eyes  three  feet  long,  and 
Van  Saverdonck,  my  class  master,  insisted  upon  the  same 
hard  outlines  that  Brangwyn  learned  from  Mr.  Harold 
Rathbone.  There  was  no  waste  of  time  over  elaborate 
shading.  Brangwyn  remembers  this  with  gratitude,  for 
English  students  in  those  days  often  followed  a routine 
of  bad  drawing  methods.  Any  student  who  wished  to 
enter  the  Royal  Academy  schools  toiled  for  months  on 
a single  study  from  the  antique,  till  his  work  became  a 
wonderful  and  fearful  thing  stippled  all  over  with  minute 
dots.  Such  work  never  seemed  to  get  finished,  and  nothing 
of  any  value  was  learnt  from  it. 

Saved  from  this  ineffectual  routine,  Brangwyn  worked 
on  at  South  Kensington  until,  one  day,  another  visitor 
made  friends  with  him.  It  was  Mr.  A.  H.  Mackmurdo, 
the  architect  and  connoisseur,  an  artist  of  broad  taste. 
It  was  he  who  founded  the  Hobby  Horse , now  dead, 
and  prepared  the  way  for  all  that  is  best  in  our  maga- 
zines of  art.  His  influence  on  Brangwyn  was  important. 
In  those  days  at  South  Kensington  there  was  a fine 
work  by  Mantegna,  the  sketch  of  a Roman  triumph,  with 
elephants,  and  Brangwyn  was  told  to  copy  it.  Mantegna 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  Work 

gripped  him  at  once,  taking  a strong  hold  on  his  mind ; 
and  the  same  thing  happened  to  Francois  Millet  when 
Mantegna  was  studied  for  the  first  time.  Indeed  Millet 
related  that  in  looking  at  Mantegna’s  martyrs  “there  were 
moments  when  he  felt  as  though  the  arrows  of  a Saint 
Sebastian  pierced  him.  These  masters  are  like  mesme- 
rists,” Millet  added,  quite  truly.  It  was  fortunate  that 
Brangwyn  took  his  first  painting  lessons  in  a sternly 
noble  school,  where  no  weakness  in  the  presentation  of 
a chosen  subject  ever  appears.  Mantegna  seems  to  build 
with  his  brush,  for  he  paints  with  a sculptor’s  hand 
and  knowledge,  like  Michael  Angelo.  You  cannot  be  half- 
hearted when  you  try  to  copy  him.  Much  work  was 
done  under  Mr.  Mackmurdo’s  supervision,  relieved  by 
visits  to  a country  house  where  master  and  pupil  studied 
plants  together.  But  soon  another  turn  was  given  to 
these  early  studies.  One  day,  at  South  Kensington, 
William  Morris  spoke  to  Brangwyn,  examined  his  work, 
and  then  asked  him  to  collect  details  from  old  tapestries. 
Some  critics  have  been  puzzled  to  account  for  the  com- 
mand displayed  by  Brangwyn  in  practical  methods  of 
decorative  design — an  art  unknown  to  ninety-nine  painters 
in  a hundred,  perhaps.  It  is  forgotten  that  his  first  know- 
ledge in  this  very  useful  field  came  partly  from  his  study 
of  plants  with  Mr.  Mackmurdo,  and  partly  from  his 
training  under  William  Morris.  For  some  time  he  worked 
at  the  Morris  rooms  in  Oxford  Street,  not  only  doing  odd 
jobs,  but  making  full-sized  working  cartoons  from  his 
employer’s  sketches.  This  sounds  easy,  perhaps,  but 
many  artists  of  note  would  much  rather  see  it  done  than 
sit  down  to  do  it  themselves.  For  the  work  is  not  only 


j Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

decorative  freehand  drawing ; it  must  be  done  at  once, 
without  bungling  and  hesitation,  each  motif  falling  pat  into 
its  right  place,  every  detail  in  scale  with  its  neighbours, 
and  all  within  a space  appointed  with  Procrustean  rigour. 
Now,  the  tendency  of  every  kind  of  drawing,  whether  you 
work  from  models  or  from  memory,  is  to  outgrow  the 
limits  of  space  fixed  by  your  paper  or  canvas.  Many  a 
portrait  painter,  after  years  of  practice,  feels  this  when 
he  begins  to  place  even  a single  figure  effectively.  Con- 
sider, then,  how  useful  it  was  to  Frank  Brangwyn  to 
enlarge  the  sketch  designs  by  William  Morris,  turning 
them  quickly  and  correctly  into  full-sized  cartoons  for 
carpets,  wall-papers,  tapestries,  and  so  forth.  This  was 
the  exercise  that  gave  him  courage  and  self-confidence ; 
it  strengthened  his  hand ; it  taught  his  eyes  not  only  to 
measure  correctly,  but  to  see  on  the  paper  before  them 
the  exact  spacing  of  a big  composition.  So,  then,  instead 
of  passing  from  life-class  to  life-class,  he  enjoyed  from  the 
first  a practical  training  very  well  fitted  to  bring  out  the 
qualities  of  his  temperament  as  an  artist.  There  are  many 
dangers  in  life-schools.  This  is  proved  by  the  fact  that 
the  most  brilliant  students — the  prize-winners — seldom  do 
anything  first-rate  in  after  years.  Not  only  do  they  miss 
the  encouragement  of  delighted  masters,  the  enthusiasm 
of  fellow-students,  but  their  early  success  generates  man- 
nerisms, with  a belief  that  they  have  done  something — 
have  even  “arrived.”  And  then,  all  at  once,  disenchant- 
ment comes,  and  they  learn  that  those  who  bore  up  against 
defeats  in  the  schools  were  lucky  fellows  because  they 
gained  habits  of  persistent  pluck.  The  less  a student 
hears  about  “ art,”  and  the  more  closely  he  is  brought  in 

13 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

touch  with  practical  methods,  workmanlike  and  strong, 
the  better  it  is  for  him.  And  here  is  another  point  con- 
nected with  Brangwyn’s  early  studies : they  did  not  teach 
him  to  talk,  did  not  make  him  facile  of  speech — a bad 
thing  that  nearly  always  accompanies  weak  craftsmanship. 
As  soon  as  a painter  begins  to  write  about  pictures,  or 
to  talk  with  fluency  about  his  impressions,  you  may  be 
quite  certain  that  he  will  not  have  emotion  enough  for 
his  own  work.  He  is  like  a boiling  kettle,  the  steam 
from  which  makes  much  ado  while  evaporating.  A 
critic  is  made  by  talk ; a painter  by  silence  and  energetic 
practice. 

For  the  rest,  William  Morris  offered  to  take  Brangwyn 
into  his  employ,  but  events  intervened,  and  the  pupil  passed 
on  into  a wider  experience,  that  included  trips  to  distant 
countries.  Between  his  journeys  he  did  some  work  for 
Morris,  and  gained  much  by  his  business  intercourse  with 
one  of  the  most  remarkable  men  of  the  last  century.  For 
Morris  was  born  to  attract  and  to  lead.  His  convictions 
were  magnetic,  his  presence  was  energy  personified ; and 
many  a distinguished  man  now,  like  Mr.  William  De 
Morgan,  thinks  of  him  with  veneration.  If  Brangwyn 
had  been  older,  a young  man  instead  of  a wayward  boy, 
it  is  probable  that  Morris,  with  his  ardent  and  deep- 
rooted  beliefs,  would  have  gained  too  strong  a hold  of 
the  pupil’s  mind.  As  it  was,  Brangwyn  slipped  away 
into  a life  of  adventure,  and  there  was  no  loss  of  per- 
sonality while  he  learned  all  he  could  from  the  master 
spirit. 

Not  that  everybody  was  satisfied  with  his  work.  Some 
of  the  boy’s  drawings  were  shown  to  Mr.  W.  Q.  Orchardson, 


‘Parentage  and  Early  Studies 

who  had  become  a Royal  Academician  in  1877.  The  great 
man  was  kind,  but  very  far  from  pleased ; he  had  no  hopes 
at  all  for  Brangwyn’s  future.  Then  other  studies  were 
taken  to  Mr.  Colin  Hunter,  and  this  painter  mingled 
encouragement  with  good  advice,  saying  that  fame  in  art 
could  never  be  foreseen ; it  rested  with  each  man’s  char- 
acter. Tenacity,  as  well  as  talent,  was  essential. 


CHAPTER  II 

LATER  STUDIES 

WHILE  doing  what  he  could  to  please 
William  Morris — from  about  1882  and  1884 
— Brangwyn  saved  from  his  earnings  the  sum 
of  forty  shillings,  and  prepared  for  a sketching 
tour  in  the  country.  It  was  a very  natural  feeling  of  dis- 
content that  urged  him  on.  For  all  art  students — unless 
they  happen  to  be  prigs — rebel  from  time  to  time  against 
the  artificialities  that  form  around  professional  work  an 
unchanging  atmosphere.  The  same  thoughts  are  discussed 
day  after  day,  the  same  things  are  seen,  almost  the  same 
things  are  done ; and  although  the  mind  is  active,  it  moves 
within  limits  set  by  custom,  rather  like  the  mechanism 
of  a watch  within  its  metal  case.  I know  men  to-day  who 
hated  modern  art  when  I was  a lad  of  fifteen  at  the  Slade 
School.  Their  tastes  then  were  all  bred  in  museums  among 
the  primitive  masters ; and  to  this  day  they  are  antago- 
nistic to  any  other  painters.  For  thirty-two  years  they 
have  kept  their  atmosphere  unrefreshed.  So,  as  custom 
is  reason  either  fast  asleep  or  only  half  awake,  every  art 
student  ought  to  break  free  from  familiar  surroundings  and 
the  repetition  of  ordered  studies.  This  was  understood  in 
England  years  ago,  for  Cozens,  Girtin,  Turner,  De  Wint,  Cox, 
and  many  others,  owed  much  more  to  independent  observa- 
tion out  of  doors  than  to  lessons  and  methodical  teaching. 
16 


Later  Studies 


This  applies  also  to  Frank  Brangwyn,  whose  real  schools 
have  been  travel  and  the  sea,  distant  countries  and  their 
ways  of  living.  It  was  an  education  in  light,  in  colour, 
and  in  wondrous  varied  towns,  peoples  and  costumes. 
Luckily,  too,  it  began  at  a time  when  he  was  too  much 
of  a boy  to  gather  his  impressions  in  a self-conscious  way, 
as  if  he  were  a correspondent  for  a newspaper.  It  is  ever 
indiscreet  to  trust  a man  who  goes  out  deliberately  to 
observe  given  events  ; he  tries  to  be  effective,  and  falsifies 
what  he  sees.  Brangwyn’s  aim  when  he  left  Morris  was  to 
score  a little  off  his  own  bat ; he  knew  nothing  of  the 
world  and  its  life,  and  was  bored  by  a routine  of  talk 
about  familiar  subjects. 

His  first  trip  was  to  a village  on  the  coast  of  Kent — 
Sandwich.  Here  there  were  fishermen  with  their  boats, 
little  cottages  and  their  kindly  womenfolk,  gleaming  sands, 
and  the  sea  with  its  thousand  moods.  The  boy  painter 
lived  as  simply  as  the  villagers. 

“ During  the  day  I worked  hard  at  my  sketching,  and 
by  night  I hobnobbed  with  the  ships’  captains  who 
frequented  the  inn  in  which  I lodged.  One  of  these 
mariners  was  a man  of  some  artistic  ability,  and  soon  we 
became  great  friends.  Thus  the  time  passed  very  pleasantly 
— until  funds  began  to  run  low,  and  eventually  ran  out 
altogether.  Expected  supplies  from  home  did  not  arrive. 
While  the  people  of  the  inn  were  most  kind  and  con- 
siderate, the  situation  was  unpleasant,  though  I daresay 
my  imagination  made  it  worse  than  it  was.  Anyhow, 
when  my  friend,  the  artistic  captain,  suggested  that  I 
should  make  a voyage  with  him,  I jumped  at  the  chance” 
(M.A .P.,  February  27,  1904). 
c 


17 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

Indeed,  he  gladly  worked  for  his  passage  on  the  schooner 
Laura  Ann , doing  whatever  came  along.  He  stowed 
sails,  handled  ropes,  helped  the  cook,  washed  dishes,  made 
sketches  of  the  ship,  and  sold  them  to  the  crew  for  sixpence 
apiece.  It  was  a capital  opportunity  to  learn  every  rope 
and  spar  on  board  a vessel ; and  Brangwyn  got  to  know 
more  about  sea  life  than  “The  Cruise  of  the  Midge ” would 
have  taught  him.  Here  was  an  experience  all  alive  with 
good  subjects,  and  it  did  not  end  when  the  boat  anchored 
in  the  Thames.  A great  liking  for  the  sea  remained,  and 
his  earliest  paintings  were  of  ships  and  sailors. 

“The  first  money  I earned  was  by  painting  the  name 
on  a vessel’s  hull.  This  work  brought  me  sixpence. 
After  that  I made  friends  with  the  Laura  Ann;  then 
with  some  other  coasters  — not  actually  sailoring,  you 
know,  though  I had  to  work  my  passage  more  than 
once.  At  times  I was  actually  on  my  beam-ends — but 
happy.  On  several  occasions  I had  to  assist  in  loading 
a vessel  to  get  a supper,  and  once  I was  even  harder 
pushed  than  that.  A Welsh  schooner  came  in,  and  I 
applied  for  a job.  For  a couple  of  days  I ran  a barrow 
across  a plank  backwards  and  forwards,  and  all  the 
generous  skipper  gave  me  was  a mouldy  old  biscuit. 
Still,  I was  following  Art,  so  I just  munched  that 
biscuit  and  was  content,  though  I mentally  registered 
a vow  never  to  work  for  a Welsh  sea-captain  again.” 

It  was  in  the  thick  of  these  experiences  that  the  boy 
painted  his  first  picture,  a small  one  in  oil,  “A  Bit  on 
the  Esk,”  near  Whitby  ; he  sent  it  to  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  it  was  accepted  and  hung  in  1885,  when 
Brangwyn  was  just  eighteen.  Then  for  a while  he  lived 
18 


Later  Studies 


in  a single  room  at  18  Shepherd’s  Bush  Green,  doing 
work  from  time  to  time  for  William  Morris.  Besides 
that  he  designed  for  several  manufacturers,  passing  from 
wall-papers  to  tiles,  and  from  card  backs  to  other  utilities. 
Very  low  prices  were  paid  for  his  drawings.  In  modern 
shop-expenses,  advertisement  is  deemed  of  greater  im- 
portance than  well-paid  designing ; but  Brangwyn  some- 
how managed  to  save  a few  pounds,  and  with  their  help 
he  tried  his  hand  at  a difficult  picture,  a seascape  with  a 
wrecked  boat  lying  on  a sandbank  in  rough  weather.  It 
was  freely  handled,  it  was  true  in  dramatic  feeling.  The 
Royal  Academy  accepted  this  early  work  in  1886,  and  a 
shipowner  bought  it,  and  made  friends  with  its  author. 
He  was  a patron  such  as  any  young  artist  would  wish 
to  have;  and  in  1888  he  allowed  Brangwyn  to  give  a 
certain  number  of  sketches  in  return  for  a sea  voyage  on 
board  one  of  his  boats.  The  passage  having  been  bought 
in  this  way,  Brangwyn  set  sail  for  Asia  Minor. 

An  active  life  was  very  pleasant,  and  the  painter  was  so 
delighted  with  the  East  that  he  bargained  for  another  trip, 
setting  sail  in  the  summer  of  1890.  This  time  he  visited 
Tunis,  Tripolis,  Smyrna,  Trebizond,  Constantinople;  sailed 
around  the  Black  Sea,  saw  a part  of  Roumania,  and  made 
sketches  on  the  Danube.  At  Constantinople  he  met  with 
an  adventure  : — 

“One  evening  I went  for  a stroll  in  company  with  two 
of  the  ship’s  engineers.  In  the  course  of  time  we  came  to  a 
cypress  grove,  surrounded  by  a low  wall.  I don’t  think  we 
had  any  particular  intention  in  our  minds,  and  certainly  we 
had  no  thought  of  doing  any  harm,  but  we  jumped  over 
the  wall.  Hardly  had  our  feet  touched  ground  when  a 

19 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  VFork 

ferocious-looking  soldier  rushed  at  us  with  drawn  sword. 
I did  not  stop  to  argue  the  matter,  but  transferred  myself 
to  the  other,  and  right  side,  of  the  wall  with  great  rapidity. 
The  two  engineers,  however,  being  Scots — as  I should  say 
ninety  per  cent,  of  ships’  engineers  are — wished  to  discuss 
the  metaphysical  aspects  of  the  case  with  the  soldier.  This 
they  proceeded  to  do  in  their  broad  and  native  Doric. 
Whether  the  soldier  followed  the  points  the  two  Scotties 
were  endeavouring  to  make  or  not  I can’t  say,  but  he 
enforced  his  own  point  with  his  sword,  and  with  such 
vigour  and  earnestness  that  my  comrades  made  an  abrupt 
and  unceremonious  departure  as  I had  done.  We  found 
out  afterwards  that  we  had  unwittingly  trespassed  upon  the 
gardens  of  the  old  Seraglio,  not  the  one  where  the  Sultan’s 
womenfolk  resided,  but — what  made  our  intrusion  as 
offensive  as  if  we  had  disturbed  the  sanctity  of  the  harem — 
where  the  treasure-house  was.” 

There  were  other  travel  adventures,  but  the  painter  de- 
clines to  relate  them,  arguing  that  the  only  proper  events 
to  be  told  are  those  that  directly  influenced  his  work.  He 
learned,  then,  very  soon,  what  sunlight  and  colours  meant 
in  searching  climates.  In  comparison  with  so  much 
brilliance  and  so  much  heat,  London  seemed  a town  of 
perpetual  twilight.  But  impression  followed  impression 
too  rapidly,  and  the  wish  to  work  was  sated  before  the 
struggle  between  handicraft  and  sunlight  began.  It  is  not 
often  that  a real  painter  does  any  finished  work  out  of 
doors.  Careful  outlines,  with  a few  touches  of  water-colour, 
were  enough  for  Turner;  and  Brangwyn  also,  in  his  early 
travels,  usually  followed  the  same  method,  having  confi- 
dence in  that  inward  vision  that  dwells  unimpaired  in  the 
20 


«s*»s 


PLATELAYERS. 

From  an  Original  Lithograph. 


Later  Studies 


memory  of  those  who  are  greatly  fascinated  by  colour  and 
sunlight.  On  his  return  to  London,  his  sketches  were  ex- 
hibited at  the  Royal  Arcade  Gallery,  Bond  Street,  in  March 
1891,  under  the  title  “From  the  Scheldt  to  the  Danube.” 
Only  a few  critics  noticed  their  freshness  and  sparkle. 
I choose  a notice  from  the  Star , which  says  that 
Brangwyn  was  seen  to  the  best  advantage.  “ It  is  his  own 
fault  if  he  led  one  to  suppose  that  he  could  paint  only  grey 
seas  and  stormy  skies.  At  most  exhibitions  of  late  years 
he  has  been  represented  by  pictures  of  a ship  in  a storm,  or 
rough  weather,  until  one  thought  there  were  but  greys  and 
pale  browns  on  his  palette.  But  in  the  Bond  Street  collec- 
tion almost  all  the  studies  were  made  about  Constantinople 
and  in  the  South  or  East,  and  they  glow  with  colour.  There 
are  waters  of  the  most  brilliant  blue,  glittering  white  roads 
under  intense  blue  skies,  bazaars  and  quays  filled  with 
gaily  dressed  crowds.  Pink  and  white  towns  rise  from 
the  bright  seas,  radiant  hills  bound  the  horizon,  and  only 
in  one  or  two  canvases  is  there  a reminder  that  Mr. 
Brangwyn  has  studied  nature  in  her  quieter  moods.  But 
it  is  curious  to  note  in  almost  all  the  sketches  how  much 
more  successful  he  has  been  in  rendering  colour  than  light ; 
he  gives  the  colour  of  the  South,  but  not  its  sunlight. 
The  cleverest  are  those  of  crowded  streets  and  bazaars  and 
quays,  in  which  the  figures  are  put  in  in  a most  delightful 
manner.  Not  the  least  charm  of  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  work  is 
the  direct  simple  method  of  recording  his  impressions.” 
Other  journeys  followed  in  quick  succession,  and  there 
had  been  a rapid  one  to  Spain  between  these  two  Eastern 
trips.  One  journey  took  him  to  Russia,  giving  him  ex- 
periences very  different  in  kind,  often  cold  and  unpleasant ; 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

while  Spain  was  visited  again  early  in  1891,  this  time  with 
Mr.  Arthur  Melville,  whose  death  we  mourned  in  1904, 
and  whose  name  has  often  been  coupled  with  that  of 
Brangwyn  because  of  his  originality  in  thought,  in  com- 
position, in  colour  and  in  technique.  I may  speak  of 
Melville  again  in  the  chapter  on  Brangwyn’s  sketches  in 
water-colour ; the  point  to  be  noticed  now  is  that  he 
was  encouraged  by  his  friend’s  example  to  develop  without 
fear  his  own  style,  even  although  the  academic  mind  should 
be  horrified.  Some  writers  have  supposed  that  he  copied 
Melville’s  effects  of  palpitating  heat  obtained  with  swift 
dashes  and  blobs  of  water-colour ; but  there  is  no  truth  in 
that.  They  were  kindred  spirits  as  well  as  friends ; both 
belong  to  the  same  native  feeling  for  style  that  has 
formed  at  haphazard  a sort  of  great  little  cosmopolitan 
school  in  which  we  find  Cottet,  Simon,  the  late  H.  B. 
Brabazon,  and  Mr.  Sargent  in  his  landscape  work.  These 
fine  artists,  like  Melville  and  Brangwyn,  owe  something — 
each  in  his  own  way,  by  a large  and  free  transmutation — 
to  the  French  Impressionists ; but  their  elective  affinity 
has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  conscious  effort. 

Brangwyn,  then,  in  1891,  travelled  with  Melville  in 
Spain,  going  first  to  Saragossa.  Here  they  hired  an  old 
boat  called  the  Santa  Maria , paying  twenty  pesetas  a 
day,  this  sum  to  include  a crew  and  mules.  It  was  their 
intention  to  be  towed  up  the  canal.  “ A one-eyed  man 
named  Rincon  was  signed  on  as  captain,  Antonio  as  crew 
and  cabin-boy,  and  a muleteer  to  superintend  the  mules, 
gently  or  otherwise.  The  boat  was  simply  Ai  ; she  rose 
high  out  of  the  water,  pierced  on  either  side  with  many 
windows,  and  having  a carved  figurehead  of  Neptune, 
22 


Later  Studies 


although  she  was  supposed  to  be  a Santa  Maria.  The 
roof  would  have  been  the  better  for  a bit  of  caulking,  for 
whenever  it  rained  we  had  to  move  our  goods  to  the  dry- 
spots.  The  saloon,  with  its  lockers  round,  and  upholstered 
in  yellow  silk,  made  us  feel  slightly  more  luxurious  than 
after-events  warranted.  At  last,  amid  the  jeers  and  cheers 
of  the  crowd,  we  were  under-weigh.  . . . The  sun  was 
setting,  and  the  effect  of  light  and  colour  stealing 
through  the  rows  of  dark  poplars  on  the  bank  was  fine; 
while  in  the  distance  loomed  a mysterious  uncanny-looking 
mountain  which  might  have  concealed  a demon.” 

Two  letters  on  this  Spanish  trip  appeared  in  the  first 
numbers  of  the  Studio , April  and  May,  1893.  They 
are  vivid  and  lively.  I will  take  from  them  a few 
quotations — a little  revised  by  their  author. 

“The  landscape  is  quaint,  and  decorated  with  rich 
yet  subdued  colouring : to  some  people  it  might  seem 
monotonous,  but  there  is  a subtle  pathetic  charm  in  its 
monotony.  On  the  banks  we  saw  lightly  clad  girls  with 
great  bundles  of  washing : all  this  made  glad  the  heart  of 
a painter.  Presently  we  came  to  a more  hilly  country : 
the  canal  winds  by  hills,  treeless,  scorched  by  the  sun. 
Under  the  long  shadows  of  the  few  poplars  on  the  banks 
we  could  see  a goatherd  surrounded  by  flocks  of  black 
goats,  looking  like  spots  of  ink  on  the  sun-swept  hills : 
above  the  swell  of  the  hill  hung  a great  white  cloud  . . . ” 
They  reached  a puebla  called  Catanillo — “ a dead  city, 
peopled  with  strange  earth-coloured  phantoms.  To  the 
day  succeeded  a night  if  possible  more  weird  ; masses  of 
grey  cloud  swept  over  the  sleeping  town— here  and  there 
rifts  of  opalescent  green.”  One  day — it  was  at  Galar — 

23 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

Melville,  “by  some  occult  means,  managed  to  get  a 
goatherd  with  his  flock  down  in  the  morning ; so,  after 
breakfast — otherwise  a pint  of  coffee  with  a flavour  of  oil 
about  it — we  began  our  work.  It  was  charming  at  first, 
till  the  frequent  peregrinations  of  the  goats  over  the  hills 
caused  me  to  think  the  goat  was  not  the  amiable  animal 
one  imagines  him.  We  sweated  in  agony — not  silent  on 
my  part.  Melville  made  a good  morning  of  it,  but  the 
wily  goat  proved  too  much  for  me.” 

They  saw  Huesca,  where  the  old  kings  of  Aragon 
used  to  live ; they  visited  Huren,  driving  thence  by 
Agerbe,  through  the  pine  forests  of  the  Serra  de  Quarra, 
to  ancient  Jacca.  Jacca,  which  claims  to  be  the  oldest  town 
in  Spain,  would  not  allow  them  to  sketch,  its  fortifications 
being  under  military  law ; and  the  painters  at  last  hired  an 
old  carriage  to  drive  over  the  Pyrenees  into  France,  intend- 
ing to  return  thence  into  Spain,  this  being  the  cheapest 
and  swiftest  route.  At  first  their  way  went  between  snow- 
clad  mountains,  then  amid  great  gloomy  pine  forests, 
through  which  torrents  rushed  foaming ; until  anon  they 
emerged  into  fertile  plains,  and  reached  Oleron,  from  which 
place  they  booked  to  Pau,  thence  to  Bayonne,  Irun,  and 
San  Sebastian.  From  San  Sebastian  they  moved  on  to 
Puerta  de  Passages,  a narrow  inlet  from  the  sea,  widen- 
ing into  a large  bay  of  the  deepest  and  bluest  waters, 
surrounded  with  picturesque  stone-built  houses,  once 
owned  by  the  flower  of  the  Guipposcoan  nobility,  but  now 
tenanted  by  fishermen.  “ The  architectural  features  of  this 
city  of  one  street  are  unique  and  interesting.  It  is  a tiny 
Venice,  with  essentially  Spanish  features.  The  many- 
storeyed  and  balconied  houses  all  look  on  the  bay,  and 
24 


Later  Studies 


among  these  long-deserted  palaces  one  comes  across 
treasures  of  wood  and  stone  carving.  Its  single  street 
winds  round  the  bay,  and  following  its  tortuous  passages 
one  can  find  many  pictures  : gloomy  alleys,  with  a peep 
through  of  the  bay  bathed  in  sunlight ; here  and  there  a 
shrine,  stone-covered,  with  its  painted  background,  now 
rapidly  succumbing  to  the  wear  of  sun  and  wind.  The 
place  is  as  it  was  two  hundred  years  ago.  Time  has 
only  knocked  the  angles  off.  ...  I have  been  starting  a 
tolerably  large  canvas  here  of  some  pilots  looking  out 
from  the  verandah  across  the  bay,  with  its  brilliant  white 
houses  opposite.  I suppose  no  one  will  understand  it 
when  I bring  it  home.”  True.  Few  critics  did  when  the 
picture  hung  in  the  winter  exhibition  at  the  Suffolk  Street 
Galleries,  1892. 

After  this  delightful  holiday,  Brangwyn  went  to  South 
Africa  with  Mr.  William  Hunt,  to  make  sketches  for  a 
London  dealer,  Mr.  Larkin  of  Bond  Street.  They  made 
a circuit  of  some  hundreds  of  miles  round  about  Cape 
Town,  visiting  the  Paarl,  with  its  main  street  eight  miles 
long,  red  and  sandy,  its  running  brook,  its  avenue  of  trees, 
and  surrounding  vineyards.  Brangwyn  saw  Berg  River, 
Simon’s  Town,  Kimberley,  Libertas,  Worcester,  Jonker’s 
Hoek,  and  Stellenbosch,  &c.  ; visited  an  ostrich  farm,  went 
into  fields  where  arum  lilies  thrived  like  daisies,  looked  into 
the  canteens,  and  studied  life  generally  as  it  found  its  hundred 
and  one  openings  in  the  new  colony.  There  was  a greater 
native  story  to  tell  than  he  and  Mr.  Hunt  told  ; but  they 
made  sketches  of  things  which  they  believed  would  interest 
people  at  home,  and  they  could  do  no  more.  Much  good 
material  was  found  in  the  old  Dutch  towns,  with  their 

25 


D 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

gabled  roofs  and  their  primitive  home  customs.  Ancient 
Holland  was  busy  there  under  a hot  sky.  Some  of  the 
old  Dutch  cleanliness  was  gone,  killed  by  the  heat,  perhaps, 
but  Brangwyn  still  talks  with  pleasure  about  the  kind- 
ness he  met  with  at  Stellenbosch,  Paarl,  and  Simonsburg 
— a melancholy  place,  its  white  houses  almost  without 
windows,  for  the  early  Dutch  settlers  had  to  guard  them- 
selves from  attack.  On  his  way  home  the  painter  stayed 
at  Madeira,  and  made  from  there  a short  expedition  to 
the  West  Coast  of  Africa. 

His  sketches  were  exhibited  at  the  Japanese  Gallery  in 
Bond  Street,  March  1892.  Many  notices  appeared  in  the 
Press,  and  opposite  opinions  were  expressed,  some  critics 
being  very  pleased,  while  others  declared  that  the  sketches 
did  not  reveal  the  true  genius  loci — the  genius  of  men 
and  things  in  South  Africa — as  distinct  from  their  mere 
aspects,  as  filmed  on  the  memory  of  a rapid  tourist.  The 
IVorld  declared  the  sketches  to  be  full  of  merit:  “A  most 
laudable  love  of  cool  grey  tones  distinguishes  his  work,  and 
is  prominent  in  ‘ The  Valley  of  Drakenstein  ’ and  ‘ The 
Courtyard  of  a Dutch  Farm.’  He  has  a certain  quaint 
poetic  feeling,  which  is  both  characteristic  and  pleasing, 
that  finds  utterance  in  ‘ An  Idyll,’  representing  a native 
woman  with  her  piccaninny  on  her  back  and  followed  by 
another  child,  wandering  along  the  seashore  through 
sedge  and  sand  in  the  twilight,  while  the  moon  rising  over 
the  sea  is  intercepted  by  the  baby’s  black  head,  which  it 
frames,  as  it  were,  in  a halo.  The  artist,  however,  does 
not  confine  himself  alone  to  grey  tones  and  twilight  scenes. 

‘ The  Fish  Market,  Funchal,  Madeira,’  and  ‘The  Main  Street, 
Paarl,’  prove  that  glaring  sunshine  and  blazing  colour  also 
26 


Later  Studies 


find  in  him  an  admirer  and  an  exponent.”  The  Daily 
Telegraph  was  encouraging  also,  saying  that  the  general 
effect  of  the  exhibition  was  almost  magical,  for  on  entering 
the  room  “ one  seemed  really  to  be  transported  from  our 
own  cold,  foggy,  unsympathetic  climate  to  the  burning 
glory  of  Africa.  The  natives,  their  social  life  in  primitive 
huts  and  dwellings,  and  the  picturesque  corners  of  their 
chief  cities,  as  well  as  the  more  desolate  regions  charac- 
terised by  the  grandeur  of  mountain  ranges,  rivers,  rocks, 
and  veldts,  introduce  one  vividly  to  a mighty  country  of 
which  most  of  us  have  little  knowledge.” 

Still  it  was  impossible  to  please  everybody ; and  I may 
notice  that  South  Africans  appear  to  have  been  almost 
as  much  offended  with  Mr.  Brangwyn  as  Australians 
were  with  Mr.  Froude.  Several  years  after  the  exhibition 
closed,  in  1895,  the  African  Critic  spoke  with  sorrow  of 
Brangwyn’s  visit  to  the  Cape,  and  hoped  that  a really 
competent  artist  would  take  advantage  of  “ the  present 
boom  in  African  millionaires,”  doing  pictures  of  up-country 
hunting  and  wagon  life.  Mr.  C.  W.  Furse  had  just  sailed 
in  the  Dunottar  Castle , and  it  was  to  be  hoped  that  he 
would  be  able  to  represent  some  part  of  the  wonderful 
beauty  to  be  seen  at  the  Cape.  To  satisfy  the  local  mind 
of  a British  dominion  is  a task  beyond  the  power  of  a 
traveller’s  art,  perhaps. 

Brangwyn  had  periods  of  work  in  England  between  his 
voyages  of  enchantment.  In  1886  he  left  Shepherd’s  Bush 
Green  and  set  up  his  home  at  39A  Queen’s  Square,  Blooms- 
bury. The  following  year  he  moved  on  to  the  Wentworth 
Studios,  Chelsea,  and  in  this  art  centre  he  met  Mr.  J.  J. 
Shannon,  as  well  as  many  painters  fresh  from  the  schools. 

27 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

The  Chelsea  period  in  his  early  v/ork  was  one  of  gradual 
transition.  He  joined  the  Institute  of  British  Artists, 
coming  under  the  influence  of  the  president,  Mr.  Whistler, 
at  a time  when  that  great  man’s  likes  and  dislikes  were  as 
laws  to  many  young  fellows.1 

The  thing  that  counted  then  as  the  saving  grace  of 
style  was  tone , which  may  be  described  as  a unifying 
mystery  of  colour  that  permeates  a picture,  and  binds  all 
its  parts  together,  giving  a sort  of  inner  depth  and  richness. 
Brangwyn  followed  in  the  vogue  and  made  studies  in  low 
tone.  But  he  kept  away  from  all  the  vicious  tricks  and 
pigments  which  at  various  times  have  been  employed  by 
devotees  of  the  Goddess  Tone.  Bitumen,  asphaltum,  lac 
Robert , and  glazing  over  unhardened  paint,  have  ruined 
many  thousands  of  pictures,  including  a good  many  by 
first-rate  men.  Reynolds  in  his  quest  for  rich  and 
luminous  tone  often  forgot  the  chemical  interaction  between 
pigments,  and  prepared  the  way  for  deep  cracks  and 
perished  colour.  Whistler  was  far  and  away  more  scien- 
tific, and  Brangwyn  also  tried  to  understand  the  value  of 
tone  in  its  relation  both  to  nature  and  to  good,  simple, 
non-fugitive  pigments.  Nature  is  a vast  unity  with 
scattered  parts,  while  art  is  a limited  harmony ; and  it  is 
tone  that  helps  us  to  resolve  profusion  into  a definite 
whole,  true  to  the  same  key  in  every  plot  of  colour.  Tone 
arrives  at  a semblance  of  nature’s  infinity,  not  by  searching 
for  details,  as  amateurs  believe,  but  by  a subtle  orches- 

1 I note  here  that  one  critic  accused  Whistler  of  copying  from  Brangwyn.  This  occurred 
in  1895,  and  the  criticism  appeared  in  the  Speaker  of  October  18.  Here  are  the  words : 
“Mr.  Whistler  exhibits  a study  in  red  (at  the  New  Gallery).  This  picture  reminds  me  of 
Mr.  Brangwyn,  the  juicy  quality  of  whose  work  Mr.  Whistler  reproduces  very  well.”  What 
next  ? 


28 


Later  Studies 


tration  of  each  man’s  technical  methods  in  their  relation 
to  what  must  be  left  out,  which  is  the  main  problem  of  art. 

Brangwyn  understood  this  early  in  his  career.  Tone 
gave  him  but  little  trouble  ; and  in  a good  many  of  his 
early  pictures  there  was  a kinsmanship  between  his 
methods  and  those  of  George  Morland.  You  will  notice 
the  same  facile  play  with  the  brush,  and  a similar  choice 
of  tints,  arising  from  a just  belief  that  a simple  palette  is 
the  best.  Morland  preached  that  lesson  all  his  life,  and 
his  work  has  not  changed  without  help  from  bungling 
restorers.  Between  Brangwyn’s  palette  and  Morland’s  I 
find  a striking  resemblance,  for  Brangwyn,  even  now,  in 
his  most  Eastern  effects  of  sun-colour,  works  with  a few 
pigments  that  seem  quite  ascetic.  Here  they  are  : Flake 
white,  yellow  ochre,  raw  sienna,  burnt  sienna,  cadmium, 
Venetian  red,  vermilion,  and  French  blue.  It  is  a little 
peal  of  bells  upon  which  many  carillon  changes  are  rung 
all  in  tune. 

With  this  restricted  palette  he  worked  in  low  grey  tones 
at  Chelsea,  sending  his  work  to  the  Academy,  to  Whistler’s 
Gallery  in  Suffolk  Street,  and  sometimes  to  the  Institute  of 
Oil  Painters,  of  which  he  became  a member  in  1892.  His 
subjects  were  plain  landscapes  and  sea-pieces  with  figures, 
painted  at  a heat,  and  therefore  free  from  the  elaborate 
retouching  that  Millet  and  Bastien  Lepage  brought  into 
vogue.  From  the  first  his  touch  has  had  fluency,  for  in 
his  early  studies  there  was  no  effort  to  go  beyond  the 
emotional  reach  of  his  knowledge  and  strength.  That  was 
veryT  important.  Many  a young  fellow  has  tried  to  bend 
the  bow  of  L lysses  before  he  was  strong  enough,  wasting 
his  time  over  futile  and  disheartening  struggles.  As  if 

29 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

any  good  could  ever  be  gained  by  making  the  study  of 
art  more  troublesome  than  it  is  invariably ! 

There  was  a time  in  1887  when  Brangwyn  was  on  the 
point  of  forsaking  his  colours  like  a bad  recruit.  He  was 
very  poor ; his  pictures  did  not  sell ; doing  sketches  to  be 
pawned  for  a few  shillings  was  not  entertaining ; and  the 
sailor  in  his  character  was  restive.  Why  not  “chuck”  art 
altogether,  and  go  to  sea?  Londoners,  busy  with  their 
own  affairs,  did  little  to  help  young  painters  ; and  during 
those  hard  times  a wearisome  inaction  settled  down  upon 
his  studio  life.  How  ridiculous  it  would  be  to  work 
when  colours,  canvases,  brushes,  frames,  agents’  fees, 
with  travelling  expenses  for  pictures,  asked  constantly  for 
more  money ! 

But  at  last,  one  day,  the  unhappy  painter  spoke  of  his 
troubles  to  his  colourman,  good  and  kind  old  Mr.  Mills, 
who  was  a generous  friend  to  many  young  artists.  Mr. 
Mills  believed  firmly  in  youthful  honour,  and  his  con- 
fidence was  always  at  its  best  when  materials  had  to  be 
given  in  exchange  for  promises  of  payment  at  some  vague 
date  afar  off.  The  good  man  laughed,  then  hinted  that 
the  “ blues  ” should  be  kept  for  palettes  and  fair  skies. 
Youngsters  who  painted  well  did  not  go  to  sea ; they 
accepted  £2  a week  for  a year  or  two,  gave  up  talking 
nonsense,  and  paid  regularly  in  good  work.  So  the  crisis 
passed.  With  the  capital  supplied  by  Mr.  Mills  a new 
start  was  made,  this  time  in  Cornwall,  at  the  little  fishing 
village  of  Mevagissey,  where  Brangwyn  worked  at  open- 
air  effects.  Among  the  pictures  he  then  painted  was  a 
rustic  scene  in  the  vein  of  Millet,  representing  several  men 
in  the  act  of  stripping  bark  off  felled  trees.  This  picture, 
30 


Later  Studies 


exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  1888,  was  rather  in 
keeping  with  what  is  now  known  as  the  Newlyn  School, 
whose  grey  brilliance  was  first  seen  in  Brittany,  at  Pont 
Aven,  Quimperld,  and  Concarneau.  The  Cornish  period 
in  the  forming  of  Brangwyn’s  style  was  important  because 
it  fixed  his  attention  on  subtle  half-tones  that  vary  in- 
finitely out  of  doors  ; and  the  immediate  effect  of  these 
studies  gave  charm  to  many  seafaring  pictures,  some  of 
which  were  hung  at  the  Royal  Academy  and  the  Society 
of  British  Artists  between  1889  and  1902.  I will  mention 
three  or  four. 

R. A.,  1889.  “Home”  — an  ocean-going  steamer 

brought  towards  harbour  by  a sturdy  little  tug  that  strains 
its  heart  out  in  a gallant  effort.  “ Minutes  are  like  Hours  ” 
— a pier-head  with  fisher-folk  watching,  and  a vessel 
beating  into  harbour. 

S. B.A.,  1889,  shortly  after  the  painter’s  election.  A 
picture  entitled  “Wraik  Gatherers,”  representing  a storm- 
beaten  sea  and  a beach  swept  by  waves ; in  the  foreground 
three  men  gather  wraik  from  the  surf.  For  other  works 
belonging  to  1889,  see  my  list  of  selected  pictures. 

S.B.A.,  1890.  “Conjecture” — a group  of  fishermen  on 
a damp  grey  day  standing  on  a wet  quay  and  discuss- 
ing some  point  about  a ship  that  is  just  arriving  into 
harbour.  “ It  cannot  be  said  that  the  picture  is  exactly 
interesting,”  said  the  Times ; “but  there  is  a solidity  in  the 
way  in  which  the  men  are  set  upon  their  feet  and  a reality 
about  their  attitudes  which  show  that  Mr.  Brangwyn  has 
mastered  at  least  some  of  the  principal  essentials  of  his  art.” 

R.A.,  1890.  “All  Hands  Shorten  Sail” — very  success- 
ful at  the  Paris  Salon  of  1892. 

31 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

S.B.A.,  1890.  “The  Burial  at  Sea" — of  which  I shall 
speak  in  the  next  chapter. 

R.A.,  1891.  “Assistance” — a large  picture  with  merit; 
it  represents  a storm  scene  on  board  ship  where  sailors  are 
in  the  act  of  lowering  a boat  to  save  life  off  a vessel  in 
distress.  Not  fewer  than  fifteen  men  are  shown  in  char- 
acteristic attitudes,  and  the  air  is  filled  with  spray.  The 
R.A.  skied  this  painting,  and  several  leading  newspapers 
protested. 

R.A.,  1892.  “The  Convict  Ship” — with  its  living  freight 
of  unfortunates,  just  freed  in  the  Thames  from  the  pilot’s 
boat,  of  which  a glimpse  through  the  gangway  is  descried. 
The  side  of  the  vessel  is  lined  with  various  groups,  all 
well  characterised,  and  in  the  centre  stands  a young  man  in 
chains — a captive  to  despair,  his  hands  bound  behind  him. 
It  is  one  of  those  pictures  which,  besides  their  instantaneous 
truth,  their  genuine  appeal  as  art,  have  value  as  copy- 
rights. “The  Convict  Ship”  was  medalled  at  the  Chicago 
Exhibition,  the  jury  making  their  decision  known  in  1894. 

British  Artists,  1892.  “Pilots;  Puerta  de  Passages  ” — 
a vigorous  work,  very  striking  in  colour.  “ In  the  deep 
shadow  of  the  verandah  of  a railed  gallery  overlooking  the 
water  picturesque  mariners  sit  or  stand  by  the  rough 
wooden  tables,  drinking  and  gossiping.  Without,  on  the 
opposite  shore,  are  visible  quaint  irregularly  built  houses 
and  a lofty  green  hillside,  all  in  vivid  sunlight.  Relieved 
against  this  brilliant  background,  the  figures  become  little 
more  than  silhouettes  rich  in  colour,  and  with  an  in- 
dividuality of  contour  which  gives  to  them  strongly  marked 
character”  ( Morning  Post).  This  picture  caused  much 
controversy. 

32 


Later  Studies 


Some  writers,  when  speaking  of  Brangwyn’s  seascapes, 
have  coupled  his  name  with  R.  L.  Stevenson’s.  “ Here,” 
they  say,  “is  the  man  to  illustrate  ‘Treasure  Island’  and 
‘Kidnapped.’”  They  would  be  much  nearer  the  mark  if 
they  called  Brangwyn  the  Smollett  among  British  marine 
painters.  No  kindred  feeling  unites  him  and  Stevenson, 
while  there  is  much  in  common  between  his  marine  pictures 
and  those  that  Smollett  drew  in  words,  with  brawny 
truthfulness,  after  getting  knowledge  at  first-hand  from 
a draggled  life  on  board  a battleship.  Stevenson  was  not 
a realist.  He  hunted  after  romance ; and  when  he  chose 
the  sea  it  was  not  because  he  knew  a great  deal  about 
sailors,  but  because  romance  there  attracted  him  even  more 
than  it  did  on  land.  To  Brangwyn,  in  his  sea  pictures, 
romance  counted  for  less  than  a presentation  of  character, 
and  he  showed  from  time  to  time  a quality  that  parted 
him  from  Smollett  and  united  him  to  another  master  of 
seascapes — Victor  Hugo.  That  quality  was  a really  deep 
feeling  for  the  drama  of  circumstances.  Victor  Hugo’s 
“Toilers  of  the  Sea”  brings  before  us  many  ocean  pieces 
with  a terrible  impressiveness ; we  feel  that  the  waves 
are  sterile,  merciless,  and  that  men  may  grow  to  be 
like  them  in  a life  of  maritime  adventure.  That  is  the 
drama  of  circumstances  ; and  Brangwyn  in  his  early  days 
painted  as  Hugo  wrote.  This  helps  to  explain  why  “ The 
Funeral  at  Sea”  and  “The  Buccaneers,”  when  exhibited  at 
the  Paris  Salon — the  first  in  1891  and  the  other  in  1893 — 
not  only  stirred  the  French  public  in  a memorable  way,  but 
made  Brangwyn  better  known  and  liked  abroad  than  he 
was  in  his  own  country.  Critics  of  many  different  schools 
— Max  Nordau  and  Ary  Renan,  Henri  Marcel,  Lafenestre, 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

and  Leonce  Bdnedite,  to  take  just  a few  examples — 
welcomed  him  as  a brave  and  original  painter. 

I had  written  the  foregoing  paragraph  with  its  parallel 
between  Brangwyn  and  Victor  Hugo,  when,  in  an  article 
by  Maurice  Guillemot,  I came  upon  a very  similar  thought, 
called  forth  this  time  by  Brangwyn’s  etchings,  their  in- 
sistent energy  and  their  grip  of  farouche  character  and 
humour.  “ Certaines  de  ses  planches  font  penser  aux 
dessins  de  Victor  Hugo  avec , en  plus , une  technicitd 
professionnelled  M.  Guillemot  is  right.  The  sentiment 
of  the  handicraft,  its  impulsive  emotion,  sharp  and  quick 
and  powerful,  impatient  under  restraint,  nerves  and  muscles 
at  work  together — all  this  may  be  seen  plainly  in  both 
artists,  and  it  is  worth  remembering. 

We  have  now  reached  a point  where  Brangwyn’s  later 
studies  may  be  said  to  have  ended,  because,  after  travelling 
here  and  there  from  clime  to  clime,  and  having  passed 
through  four  or  five  phases,  he  had  discovered  what  he 
really  wished  to  do  and  by  which  methods  he  was  most 
like  to  achieve  his  purpose.  There  had  been  a period 
of  hesitation.  He  could  not  at  first  choose  between  tone 
in  a low  grey  key  and  colour  all  aglow  with  brilliant  sun- 
light. For  indeed,  after  his  varied  training,  which  had 
taken  him  from  William  Morris  to  the  North  Sea,  and 
from  his  Chelsea  and  Cornish  periods  through  a sort 
of  nautical  pilgrimage  from  land  to  land,  it  was  no  easy 
task  to  resolve  a chaos  of  impressions  into  a workable 
style.  But  he  won  his  way  at  last  to  sunny  daylight. 
Doubts  went  one  by  one,  and  Brangwyn  entered  with  con- 
fidence into  his  own  style.  The  rest  belongs  to  a review 
of  his  art  as  a whole,  beginning  with  the  first  pictures 
34 


Later  Studies 


that  challenged  much  attention ; and  let  it  be  remembered, 
as  we  advance  from  stage  to  stage  in  a busy  career,  that 
the  painter  is  only  forty-three  at  the  present  time.  What 
he  has  done,  then,  we  may  hope  is  only  a small  part  of 
what  he  will  do  as  he  develops,  one  by  one,  all  those  hints 
and  ideas  on  artistic  presentation  that  appealed  to  him 
during  his  early  and  later  studies — from  his  fondness  for 
Degroux  onward  to  his  Eastern  experiences. 


35 


CHAPTER  III 


CONTESTS  OF  CRITICISM:  “A  FUNERAL  AT  SEA,” 
“THE  BUCCANEERS,”  “SLAVE  TRADERS,” 

AND  “A  SLAVE  MARKET” 

IT  is  a battlefield  always,  the  work  done  by  gifted  men ; 
year  after  year  many  critics  fire  their  shots  over  it  in 
all  directions,  aiming  at  things  liked  and  disliked,  and 
trying  to  make  good  shots,  however  painful  to  human 
targets.  There  have  been  Bisleys  of  art  criticism,  with  much 
volley-firing,  since  picture-shows  and  newspapers  became 
too  numerous ; but  when  you  pass  the  shooting  in  review, 
its  frequent  hits  and  its  many  wounds,  do  you  not  feel  that 
there  is  little  to  be  envied  in  this  part  of  a painter’s  life? 
While  going  with  care  through  the  war  of  Press  notices 
that  Brangwyn  had  to  face  between  the  years  1889  and 
1895,  I have  asked  myself  that  question  many  times. 
Why  should  a workman  ask  to  be  fired  at  in  the  News- 
paper Press?  And  as  to  the  critics,  what  function  do 
they  serve?  Biography  cannot  pass  them  by  as  of  no 
account,  because  their  influence  acts  in  two  powerful  ways  : 
either  encouraging  a man  to  make  further  efforts,  or  else 
hurting  him  terribly  in  those  very  moments  of  discontent 
that  follow  the  excitement  of  creative  efforts.  “ Every 
finished  picture  is  a subject  thrown  away,”  said  Lord 
Leighton  ; and  all  true  artists  feel  disenchanted  after  the 
stress  and  strain  of  their  endeavours. 

36 


» t I til 


Contests  of  Criticism 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  critics  do  not  often  remember 
this  drain  on  the  self-confidence  of  painters  and  sculptors. 
Indeed,  while  thinking  of  the  work  before  them,  they  are 
apt  to  forget  the  emotional  man  both  in  and  behind  the 
work,  for  you  can  never  separate  an  artist  from  his  chil- 
dren, his  finished  books,  or  pictures,  or  sculpture.  I notice, 
too,  that  Brangwyn  received  many  hard  blows  during  the 
most  tricky  and  uncertain  period  of  his  career,  when  he  was 
passing  from  tragic  or  desolate  marine  pictures  to  the  bril- 
liant life  and  colour  made  known  to  him  by  foreign  travel  ; 
but  I believe  he  met  with  kinder  help  from  the  daily  news- 
papers than  from  any  other  source.  The  great  weeklies 
were  often  arrogant,  and  sometimes  they  were  even  cruel. 
I note  this  fact  with  regret.  There  is  something  pitiful  in 
all  criticism  having  blind  eyes  and  a tongue  that  whips. 
For  critics  of  that  type  soon  die,  leaving  a poor  record  of 
service  to  the  public ; and  presently  their  old  bad  tempers 
have  to  be  recorded  in  the  life  of  some  distinguished  man. 
“When  we  speak,  let  no  painter  call  his  soul  his  own” — 
this  humour  was  too  evident  in  many  notices  of  Brangwyn’s 
early  work  ; and  there  are  men  even  now  who  venture  to 
write  of  him  with  a high-crested  authority,  as  if  they  wished 
him  to  work  within  their  atmosphere,  forsaking  his  own. 
They  object  to  his  outlook  in  art ; they  do  not  understand 
his  temperament  as  a man  of  genius ; and  their  tastes  are 
rather  cobwebs  of  the  study  than  a free  result  of  know- 
ledge acquired  at  first  hand  from  nature  and  human  life. 
And  I mention  this  here  for  three  reasons.  First,  we  must 
allow  every  man  of  genius  to  have  his  own  nature ; next, 
we  should  study  his  work  from  within  its  own  emotion  ; 
and  again,  it  is  impossible  to  have  much  sympathy  with 

37 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

Brangwyn  if  you  go  to  him  for  anecdotes,  prettinesses, 
literary  refinements,  these  qualities  having  a subordinate 
place  in  the  painter’s  art  that  he  loves  and  explores. 
Foreigners  understand  all  this ; and  but  for  their  unfailing 
encouragement,  which  began  in  1891,  I do  not  think  that 
Brangwyn  would  have  gone  successfully  through  the  most 
critical  time  of  his  career.  Our  Royal  Academy  encour- 
aged him  at  first,  then  gave  him  a cold  shoulder;  and 
after  1898,  when  his  painting  of  “The  Golden  Horn”  was 
hung  so  high  that  it  could  not  be  judged,  he  thought  it 
discreet  not  to  send  in  work  to  Burlington  House,  nor 
did  he  appear  there  again  until  1904,  the  year  in  which 
he  was  elected  A.R.A.  Meantime,  many  honours  were 
conferred  upon  him  both  by  foreign  critics  and  by  foreign 
societies  of  artists.  Brangwyn  has  gained  many  medals, 
including  the  great  gold  medal  of  honour  granted  from 
time  to  time  by  the  Emperor  of  Austria.  His  work  is 
to  be  found  at  the  Luxembourg,  at  Venice,  Stuttgart, 
Munich,  Prague,  Barcelona,  Pittsburg,  Chicago,  Sydney, 
Wellington,  and  Johannesburg.  Many  of  the  continental 
print-rooms  have  made  a choice  from  his  etchings.  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say  that  his  fame  travelled  to  us  from 
abroad  and  found  us  unready  to  receive  it  in  a proper 
spirit.  This  will  appear  evident  as  we  review  his  first 
successes,  beginning  with  “The  Funeral  at  Sea,”  that 
represents  what  is  best  in  his  first  period. 

It  is  a large  picture.  We  are  looking  up  the  deck  of  a 
big  merchant-ship.  Midway,  near  the  bridge,  four  rough 
sailors  carry  a dead  comrade  on  a stretcher ; other  sailors 
stand  near,  listening  while  their  captain  reads  the  burial 
service : “ We  therefore  commit  his  body  to  the  deep.” 
38 


Contests  of  Criticism 


In  the  foreground,  on  our  left,  stand  an  old  salt  and  a 
boy  of  sixteen,  facing  the  ceremony,  and  it  is  easy  to 
read  in  their  attitudes,  as  in  those  of  the  other  mourners, 
what  they  feel.  They  are  all  English  tars,  these  rugged, 
strong  men  in  weather-stained  clothes ; they  feel  as 
Englishmen  do  under  unusual  circumstances,  showing  a 
certain  constraint  of  manner,  as  if  their  part  in  life  is  to 
be  ashamed  when  a sudden  emotion  grips  them  by  the 
throat.  The  old  salt  has  a clay  pipe  hidden  in  his 
right  hand ; the  first  mate,  a bearded  fellow,  standing 
near  the  head  of  the  stretcher,  has  thrust  both  hands 
into  his  coat  pockets,  and,  his  head  drooping,  he  listens 
in  awkward  sorrow  while  the  captain  reads.  No  ocean 
drama,  seen  with  our  own  eyes,  could  tell  us  more  about 
the  simple  loyalty  and  good  comradeship  that  unite  a 
crew  near  the  graveyard  of  our  race — the  sea.  This  work, 
so  true,  so  poignant,  is  but  a symbol  of  our  national 
destiny.  For  England — “ Our  Lady  of  the  Sea,”  as 
Camden  named  her — has  all  her  fortunes  on  the  deep, 
and  one  day  they  will  be  lost  there  and  buried. 

“ C’est  l’Angleterre,”  a Frenchman  said  of  “ The  Funeral 
at  Sea,”  feeling  the  sturdy  characters  of  each  sailor,  the 
restrained  grief,  and  the  strange  fatalism  that  cannot  be 
kept  away  from  those  who  toil  above  the  ocean  in  the 
brave  toys  called  ships.  Nothing  should  take  a sailor 
unawares,  accustomed  as  he  is  to  all  the  most  terrible 
and  majestic  effects  produced  by  winds  and  waves  in  their 
agitation  and  thunders.  So  the  sorrow  in  this  picture  is 
not  a bit  like  any  grief  that  rough  men  show  by  a grave- 
side in  a churchyard.  It  is  in  keeping  with  the  hazards  of 
marine  adventure,  not  with  the  ordered  security  that  shelters 

39 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JVork 

life  on  land.  Ashore,  death  comes  ever  as  a surprise ; it 
seems  abnormal,  and  we  blind  our  windows  from  the  light, 
and  make  our  footsteps  whisper  with  our  voices.  At  sea, 
on  the  other  hand,  death  is  but  the  spirit  of  storms  and 
the  genius  of  triumphant  waves.  It  is  a part  of  that 
everlasting  conflict  in  nature  that  breeds  fatalism  among 
those  who  earn  their  bread  in  the  midst  of  great  lonely 
forests,  or  vast  mountains,  or  perilous  ocean  strife. 

In  this  picture  by  Brangwyn,  painted  when  he  was 
only  twenty-three,  you  will  find — side  by  side  with  a few 
youthful  shortcomings — as  much  true  psychology  as  any 
painter  has  yet  put  into  a typical  scene  from  maritime 
experience.  Nothing  here  is  forced.  Every  sailor  keeps 
his  plane  and  place  in  the  composition,  and  stands  out 
of  doors  with  the  salt  air  all  around  him.  His  emotion 
belongs  to  his  own  character,  and  makes  no  direct  appeal 
for  our  sympathies.  A true  seaman  who  happens  to  be 
a young  man  of  genius  has  painted  with  penetrating 
judgment  and  sincerity  a work  that  all  other  seamen  will 
understand.  One  might  suppose  that  the  London  public, 
dependent  on  the  sea  for  all  things  worth  having,  would 
be  quicker  than  the  Parisian  public  to  recognise  the 
merit  in  Brangwyn’s  pathos  and  observation.  Yet  “The 
Funeral  at  Sea  ” was  not  very  much  noticed  when  it 
hung  at  the  Galleries  in  Suffolk  Street,  while  a great 
success  was  won  by  it  immediately  afterwards  at  the 
Paris  Salon,  where  its  pathos  and  its  power  were  fully  ap- 
preciated. Roger  Marx  was  as  delighted  as  A.  Sylvestre ; 
Ldonce  Bdnddite1  and  Georges  Lafenestre  were  as  enthusi- 

1 M.  Bdnedite  wrote  as  follows : “ Mais  c’est  encore  un  etranger,  M.  Brangwyn,  un  Anglais 
ne  dans  les  Flandres,  qui  nous  fait  assister  avec  le  plus  d’emotion  et  d’impression  vraie,  dans 

40 


Contests  of  Criticism 


astic  as  MM.  Jacques,  Groselande,  Marcel,  Wolff,  and 
others.  One  critic,  writing  in  the  Repbiblique  Franqaise , 
said  that  the  sailors  seemed  to  be  alive : on  croit  les  voir 
soufflant.  The  picture  is  still  remembered  in  Paris,  though 
its  success  belongs  to  1891.  The  French  Government 
wished  to  buy  it  for  the  Luxembourg,  but  the  work  had 
been  bought  by  an  Englishman. 

Some  good  notices  were  written  in  England — just  a 
few,  but  visitors  to  the  Suffolk  Street  Galleries  cared  no 
more  for  the  subject  than  they  did  for  the  year  one.  For 
there  was  no  prettiness,  no  sentimentalism  ; it  was  a 
quiet  picture ; and  because  it  asked  for  as  much  thought 
as  was  freely  given  to  sports  and  games,  it  seemed 
“ heavy  ” as  art  to  Londoners. 

The  Daily  Telegraph  spoke  well  of  “The  Funeral  at 
Sea,”  finding  it  well-grouped  and  finely  depicted  in  solemn 
greys,  pervaded  also  with  an  indescribable  salt-air-like 
touch.  The  Manchester  Examiner  threw  in  a technical 
criticism  with  much  praise,  finding  the  sea  too  blue  on  a 
grey  day,  while  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  described  the  picture 
as  excellently  designed.  Mr.  Frederick  Wedmore  wrote 
two  encouraging  criticisms  at  a time  when  his  good  words 
were  very  welcome.  The  first  one  was  in  the  Academy: 
“ It  must  at  least  be  said  that  this  picture  shows  . . . 
dramatic  power  . . . fine  and  accurate  observation,  and 
good  craftsmanship,”  all  “at  the  service  of  a genuine 


un  tableau  d’un  tltre  discutable,  mais  naif,  Un  Enterrement  & bord,  au  dernier  acte  de  ces 
existences  6ternellement  ballottees,  dont  les  restes  ne  trouvent  meme  pas  le  repos  apres  la 
mort.  Sur  le  pont  du  navire  en  marche,  respectueusement  decouverts,  les  visages  se 
dessinant  rouges  et  Mies  dans  l’atmosph&re  humide  sur  le  gris  continu  du  ciel,  l’equipage 
ecoute  religieusement  le  capitaine  qui  lit  la  Bible  devant  le  corps  du  vieux  compagnon  de 
luttes  qui  va  glisser  par-dessus  bord,  dans  la  mer  aux  eaux  d’un  bleu  profond  d’indigo.” 

F 41 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

imaginative  gift.”  In  the  Magazine  of  Art,  Mr.  Wedmore 
referred  to  the  painters  who  had  clung  to  the  British 
Artists  after  the  secession  of  Mr.  Whistler : — 

“ Really  first  among  them  in  importance  I place  Mr. 
Brangwyn’s  sea-funeral,  ‘ We  therefore  commit  his  body  to 
the  Deep.’  Mr.  Brangwyn — beginning  perhaps  with  forcible 
little  visions  of  smoky  steam-tugs  in  dirty  weather  making 
manfully  for  the  port — has  developed  into  one  of  the  most 
important  and  original  of  living  painters  of  the  marine. 
His  grey  schemes  of  Anglo-French  colour  interpret  success- 
fully enough  the  deck  scenes  to  which  he  now  most 
frequently  addresses  himself.  A greater  range  of  hue,  a 
far  more  opulent  palette,  would  be  wanted  if  he  saw  the  sea 
in  its  variety,  from  the  infinite  agate  of  the  waters  off 
Whitby  to  the  opal  and  amethyst  of  the  Sussex  coast  and 
the  sapphires  of  Cornwall.  But  these — in  their  mystery  or 
their  splendour — he  leaves  to  others : to  Mr.  Edwin  Hayes, 
Mr.  Henry  Moore,  and  Mr.  Hook.  And,  retaining  his 
neutral  tints — concentrating  himself  wholly  upon  themes 
which  it  is  possible  for  them  to  interpret — he  seeks,  in  such 
scenes,  story  and  dramatic  effect  to  which  the  pure  or  noble 
colourist  may  perchance  be  indifferent.  And  this  winter 
(1890-91),  at  the  ‘ British  Artists,’  he  shows  us  that  he  has 
conceived  with  dignity,  yet  with  homely  truth,  the  aspect 
of  things  upon  an  unimportant  merchant  vessel  when  a 
rough  and  shy  but,  one  is  sure,  humane  skipper  is  called 
upon  to  read  the  noble  words  which  bespeak,  for  our 
dear  brother  here  departed,  a resurrection  even  from  the 
changeful  sea — the  ‘vast  and  wandering  grave’  of  ‘In 
Memoriam.’  ” 

The  fact  is  that  Brangwyn  just  painted  the  marines  that 
42 


Contests  of  Criticism 


appealed  to  him  most  powerfully.  It  mattered  not  to  him 
what  colour  or  what  calm  days  attracted  Mr.  Hook  or 
Mr.  Henry  Moore,  or  Mr.  Edwin  Hayes.  Nor  had  he 
any  wish  to  vie  with  Mr.  Somerscales  or  Mr.  J.  R.  Reid. 
Having  known  storms  at  sea,  under  many  lowering  skies, 
the  tragedy  of  ships  was  to  him  what  the  dangers  of 
collieries  were  to  Constantin  Meunier.  It  was  a question 
of  standpoint  determined  by  emotion  and  experience.  An 
old  fisherman  from  the  North  Sea,  if  endowed  suddenly 
with  a genius  for  art,  would  not  paint  the  infinite  agate  of 
the  waters  off  Whitby,  nor  the  opal  and  amethyst  of  the 
Sussex  coast.  His  whole  nature  would  tell  him  that  the 
mercilessness  of  rough  waters,  their  terrific  sublimity  in 
agitation,  their  appalling  heaviness  when  they  roll  into 
crested  mountains  and  deep  valleys,  will  for  ever  have  a 
more  memorable  impressiveness  than  any  day  of  peaceful 
glamour  around  our  English  coasts.  It  was  in  this  spirit 
that  Brangwyn  adventured  among  the  shoals  and  reefs  of 
marine  painting.1 

Moreover,  at  the  very  time  when  Mr.  Wedmore  implied 
— quite  without  meaning  it,  I am  sure — that  Brangwyn 
had  settled  down  for  life  to  a meagre  palette  of  Anglo- 
French  greys,  other  critics  complained  because  his  trips  to 
the  East  had  made  known  to  him  the  splendour  of  bright 
tints  in  a clear  atmosphere  of  searching  heat.  “ The 
Buccaneers”  brought  to  a climax  this  attack  on  his  aims 
and  methods,  for  it  offended  many  writers  in  England 
when  it  hung  at  the  Grafton  Galleries  in  February  1893. 


1 “The  Funeral  at  Sea”  passed  into  the  collection  of  the  late  Sir  John  Kelk,  that  came 
up  for  sale  at  Christie’s  on  Saturday,  March  n,  1899.  The  Brangwyn  was  bought  by 
Lewis  for  105  guineas;  and  to-day  it  belongs  to  the  Glasgow  Corporation. 


43 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TVork 

The  Spectator  said  that  Mr.  Brangwyn,  naturally  a black- 
and-white  painter,  had  been  letting  about  him  with  strong 
colours,  like  Mr.  Melville.  The  Manchester  Guardian 
sniffed,  and  fired  out  the  words  “garish  and  aggressive.” 
The  Saturday  Review  was  very  indignant,  sneering  at 
“The  Buccaneers”  as  an  example  of  slap-dash  painting  and 
aggressive  riotous  colour  that  might  well  serve  to  show 
that  violence  could  never  be  vigour.  Truth  had  a different 
view,  though  not  more  favourable,  since  Mr.  Brangwyn’s 
work  looked  much  more  like  a piece  of  mosaic  pavement 
than  a picture ; and  the  Pall  Mall  Budget  hit  upon 
another  little  novelty  in  abuse.  It  said  that  Mr.  Brangwyn’s 
production  was  the  war-cry  of  fin-de-siecle  barbarism.  As 
to  the  Daily  Telegraph , it  assured  him  that  his  flaming 
piece  of  impressionism,  with  the  air  left  out,  proved 
decidedly  that  he  was  following  a wrong  road.  But  here 
and  there  a criticism  was  favourable.  The  A thenceum  was 
certain  that  when  the  observer’s  eye  had  grown  accustomed 
to  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  intense  pigments,  he  would  find  that 
the  picture  possessed  many  striking,  and  even  great 
qualities,  which  required  only  refining  to  become  admirable. 
That  was  praise  indeed,  for  the  A thenceum  in  those  days 
was  often  as  old-fashioned  as  it  well  could  be.  It  was  the 
Morning  Post , however,  that  got  nearest  to  the  merit  of  the 
picture,  forestalling,  at  least  to  some  extent,  the  verdict 
passed  at  the  Salon  a few  weeks  later : — 

“A  large  work  of  great  power  is  ‘The  Buccaneers’  of 
Mr.  Frank  Brangwyn.  To  the  sea-rovers  therein  is  dealt 
out  poetic  justice.  Their  daring  attack  on  a vessel  lying  in 
the  roadstead  has  failed,  and  they  strain  at  the  oars  with  all 
their  available  strength  the  sooner  to  gain  the  shelter  of 
44 


Contests  of  Criticism 

their  own  ship.  But  many  of  the  swarthy-skinned  crew 
are  wounded ; the  foremost  rower  has  just  been  hit,  and 
involuntarily  relinquishes  his  efforts,  while  the  pirates’ 
destined  prey  is  peppering  them  with  its  guns,  and  an 
avenging  boat  is  in  full  pursuit.  The  incident  occurs  on  a 
day  when  the  sun  blazes  down  with  intense  heat.  The 
rocky  shore,  the  white  houses  of  the  town,  and  the  poplars 
are  defined  clearly  where  the  sunlight  strikes  them,  but  their 
forms  when  shadowed  are  blurred  with  haze.  The  white 
boat  and  its  picturesquely  clad  crew  are  relieved  with  sharp 
contrast  against  the  dark  blue  of  the  water,  whose  hue, 
exaggerated  in  depth  as  it  may  appear  to  eyes  accustomed 
to  look  on  Northern  seas,  may  nevertheless  be  charac- 
teristic of  the  Mediterranean.  The  picture  needs  to  be 
seen  from  a sufficient  distance,  for  the  execution  is  of  the 
boldest,  most  vigorous  kind,  and  the  colouring  is  intensely 
vivid.” 

It  was  a complex  problem  that  Brangwyn  had  set 
himself  to  solve : namely,  how  to  suggest  with  vigorous 
truth  the  play  of  searching  sunlight  on  gay  colours  and 
a boatful  of  brown  cut-throats.  It  was  a drama  of  sun- 
colour  in  full  action,  and  he  wished  to  make  of  it  a 
decorative  whole.  If  R.  L.  Stevenson  had  described 
it  in  a story,  speaking  of  the  white  boat,  the  heavy  blue 
waters,  the  wonderful  red  flag  at  the  stern,  and  the 
character  of  each  sea-rover,  no  critic  would  have  com- 
plained ; but  no  sooner  was  a scene  of  astonishing  action 
made  real  in  its  own  artistic  medium,  than  its  author 
became  a target  in  England  for  sneering  rebukes.  To 
Brangwyn,  whose  eyes  were  still  attuned  to  the 
radiance  of  the  East,  it  seemed  best  to  work  mainly 

45 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

with  primary  colours,  placing  them  side  by  side  in  such 
contrastive  harmonies  that  they  lost  their  crudeness 
and  united  into  atmospheric  reds,  blues,  yellows,  whites, 
and  browns,  all  transfigured  by  scorching  sunlight.  To 
compose  with  pure  pigments,  as  if  they  were  bright 
flowers  to  be  made  into  a perfect  bouquet,  needs  a very 
subtle  eye  for  colour ; and  I am  sure  that  Brangwyn 
succeeded,  however  melodramatic  his  work  may  have  seemed 
to  critics  living  in  grey  London.  As  to  his  brushwork,  it 
was  in  keeping  with  his  subject.  What  accord  would  there 
have  been  between  delicate  technique  and  the  actions  of 
ruthless  pirates?  Is  Caliban  to  have  a dainty  language  in 
the  British  art  of  painting?  Some  London  critics  implied 
as  much  as  that. 

Then  the  picture  went  to  Paris,  and  was  welcomed  there 
as  a revelation.  Fashions  sprang  up  in  Brangwyn  reds,  and 
people  flocked  to  see  his  buccaneers,  till  the  carpet  on  the 
floor  of  the  gallery  was  worn  out  all  around  that  one 
painting.  By  critics,  also,  with  just  two  or  three  excep- 
tions, Brangwyn  was  welcomed  with  enthusiasm,  and 
most  painters  rejoiced  in  him  as  a new  young  master 
with  courage  enough  to  do  fine  things  in  his  own  way. 
M.  Besnard  was  not  pleased,  and  M.  Gustave  Geffroy  saw 
in  “The  Buccaneers”  a ragodt  of  Delacroix  and  Manet,  but 
he  was  promptly  corrected  by  other  writers.  M.  Kersant 
told  him  that  Brangwyn  was  strong  enough  to  be  loyal  to 
himself,  and  that  his  methods  had  no  resemblance  with 
those  of  Delacroix,  as  a visit  to  the  Louvre  would  prove  to 
any  observer.  Apart  from  this,  there  was  not  in  the  whole 
Salon  a picture  that  possessed  the  intensity  of  colour  and 
life  flashing  from  Brangwyn’s  paint.  “ Oh ! les  bons 

46 


Contests  of  Criticism 


Boucaniers.  Qu’ils  sont  vrais  dans  leur  sauvagerie  et  leur 
grossieretd  voulues  ! Comme  on  les  devine,  ce  qu’ils  dtaient, 
aussi  prets  a dcorcher  un  homme  qu'un  boeuf,  pillards 
intrepides  et  joyeux,  hdros  de  sac  et  de  corde ! ” 

That  was  the  general  note.  The  painter  was  judged 
from  within  the  atmosphere  of  his  work ; he  was  not 
whipped  and  ridiculed  because  he  had  dared  to  treat  a des- 
perate scene  in  a rigorously  dramatic  manner.  M.  Leonce 
Bdneaite  still  remembers  with  delight  the  impression  made 
upon  him  by  “The  Buccaneers.”  As  a member  of  the 
purchasing  committee  he  hoped  that  the  picture  would  be 
bought  for  the  Luxembourg ; two  other  members  shared 
his  enthusiasm  ; but  the  majority  chose  a work  less  modern 
in  its  audacious  outlook,  that  could  not  surprise  any  person. 
And  they  were  right.  It  is  not  the  business  of  any  State 
to  encourage  at  once  a new  and  successful  departure  from 
the  routine  of  academic  painting.  A conservative  outlook 
among  officials  enables  the  public  to  revise  first  impressions 
and  to  wait  for  further  evidence.  I note,  then,  that  “The 
Buccaneers”  was  seen  again  at  Paris  in  1907,  in  Georges 
Petit’s  rooms,  at  the  time  when  the  picture  was  purchased 
by  M.  Pacquement  from  its  first  owner,  M,  Stany 
Oppenheim ; and  I am  told  in  a criticism  by  Maurice 
Guillemot  that  although  the  picture  had  been  very  much 
imitated,  the  enchantment  of  its  colour  remained,  and  was 
still,  as  in  1893,  a surprise.  This  opinion  is  confirmed  by 
M.  Henri  Marcel,  who  says:  “The  pure  tones  in  this 
picture  were  extraordinary,  and  amazed  and  disgusted  the 
Philistines,  but  its  reappearance  at  the  Salle  Petit  last  year 
showed  whose  judgment  was  the  right  one.  The  passage 
of  fifteen  years  had  softened  its  violent  contrasts,  and  the 

47 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

astonishing  rightness  of  its  harmonies  of  colour  had  allowed 
it  to  age  without  the  development  of  a single  dissonant  note.” 
M.  Gaston  Migeon,  in  1893,  was  among  the  admirers  of 
the  new  Brangwyn ; and  so  were  M.  Roger  Marx,  M.  Ary 
Renan,  and  M.  Raoul  Sertat.  Ary  Renan  was  amazed 
that  the  painter  could  pass  with  ease  and  success  from 
“The  Funeral  at  Sea”  to  “The  Buccaneers.”  “ Comment , 
dis-je,  est-il  possible  que  ce  soil  le  meme  M.  Brangwyn 
qui  nous  dblouisse  aujourd' hui  ? Les  rouges , les  bleus , 

les  tons  henries  el  surs  de  sa  nouvelle  toile  sont  tout 
simplement  d'une  incomparable  maitrise , et  I'dcole 
romantique  da  jamais  rien  fait  de  plus  puissant." 
Raoul  Sertat  was  equally  enthusiastic,  praising  the 
picture  as  a striking  symbol  of  that  instinctive  belli- 
gerency in  man,  that  drives  him  even  into  crime  for 
pleasure,  because  he  desires  to  be  active  in  the  thick  of 
dangers.  “ Rarement,  en  vdrite,  vit-on  cette  fureur  et  ce 
bonheur  de  vivre  mieux  exprimds  que  par  le  peintre  des 
Boucaniers , dont  le  style , suivant  de  pres  son  inspiration 
et  sy  appropriant  avec  une  merveilleuse  souplesse , se 
ddchaine , cette  fois,  en  une  irresistible  vehemence,  oil  les 
coups  de  brosse  fougueux,  les  colorations  chaudes  et 
sonores,  fortes  et  radieuses,  concourent  ci  1'ejfet  le  plus 
passionnd  et  le  plus  vibrant."  But,  meantime,  British 
protests  were  heard  even  from  Paris.  I find  one  written 
in  a Belgian  paper,  and  attributed  to  a British  writer 
with  a Scotch  name.  Another  appeared  in  the  Fortnightly 
Review.  It  told  the  world  that  Brangwyn’s  picture  “scarce 
deserved  the  unstinted  praise  being  lavished  upon  it  in 
Paris  ” — a point  that  the  French  critics  were  very  well  able 
to  decide  for  themselves. 

48 


odttccd  from  the  large  Oil-Painting 


Contests  of  Criticism 


I might  close  here  my  review  of  the  seafaring  pictures 
in  Brangwyn’s  first  period,  but  I find  in  the  Times  of 
October  29,  1892,  welcome  reference  to  another  picture 
that  disturbed  our  English  writers  on  art.  It  was  called 
“Slave  Traders,”  and  represented  a group  of  Arabs  seated 
on  the  deck  of  their  dhow,  the  sun  beating  fiercely  upon 
a white  cabin  and  the  gay  colour  of  the  men’s  dresses, 
with  a brilliant  note  of  red  in  the  burnous  of  one  figure. 
The  Times  considered  this  in  every  way  a brilliant  per- 
formance : “Taken  altogether,  it  is  the  most  interesting 
picture  at  the  Institute;  the  only  one,  perhaps,  that  seems 
like  a promise  of  great  things  to  come  from  the  painter 
of  it.  Mr.  Brangwyn,  who  knows  the  sea  as  only  a 
born  seaman  can,  has  till  now  painted  only  scenes  from 
our  northern  latitudes,  with  ships  tossing  on  the  grey 
waves,  and  sea  and  sky  gloomy  and  lowering.  His  work 
has  always  been  full  of  ability,  but  it  has  been  monotonous 
and  always  sad  in  colour.  But  now  it  seems  that  some 
kind  fate  has  taken  him  southwards,  and  shown  him  the 
sunlight  blazing  on  the  coasts  of  Africa ; and  he  has 
painted  a picture  which,  for  glow  of  colour,  beats  any- 
thing here,  anything  that  an  Englishman  has  ventured 
upon  for  a long  time.” 

Contemporary  with  this  work  was  a companion  picture, 
“A  Slave  Market,”  showing  yet  more  clearly  Brangwyn’s 
transition  from  menacing  storms  at  sea  to  vivid  sun- 
light on  shore.  It  was  hung  at  the  Royal  Academy  in 
1893,  with  another  painting,  “Turkish  Fishermen’s  Huts.” 
The  “ Slave  Market  ” set  reviewers  by  the  ears.  R.  A.  M. 
Stevenson  was  betwixt  and  between  : “ We  cannot  over- 
look the  great  change  which  has  come  in  the  aspect  of 

o 49 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

Mr.  Brangwyn’s  work.  His  ‘Slave  Market’  glows  with 
the  most  vivid  colours,  laid  on  frankly,  and  without 
much  attention  to  value.  We  admire,  but  suffer  from 
the  absence  of  light  and  air,  which  prevents  our  finding 
our  way  about  the  picture.”  This  sort  of  thing  used 
to  be  said  in  France  about  the  brilliant  and  able  pochades 
that  poor  Regnault  exhibited  at  the  Salon,  for  it  is  always 
difficult  for  western  and  northern  eyes  to  accept  in  a paint- 
ing the  insistent  East,  its  glare  and  its  flashing  tints. 
The  Manchester  Guardian , unwilling  to  be  oriental  with 
Brangwyn,  acted  as  a surgeon,  performing  an  operation  with 
self-assurance,  and  then  bandaging  the  wound  with  care  and 
self-satisfaction : “ Mr.  Frank  Brangwyn  has  . . . sud- 
denly passed  from  the  green-blue-grey  tonality  of  Newlyn 
to  the  flaming  scarlets  and  unmitigated  blues  of  Africa. 
His  colours  are  splendid  enough  in  their  way,  but  they 
are  the  colours  of  stained-glass  windows,  not  of  paintings. 
In  this  ‘ Slave  Market,’  for  instance,  the  total  lack  of  atmos- 
phere in  a scene  of  outdoor  sunlight  renders  the  assault 
made  on  the  eyes  by  the  fiercely  red  draperies  and  the 
wall  of  blue  sky  intolerable.  Mr.  Brangwyn  is  even 
here  by  no  means  le  premier  venu , and  when  he  has  sown 
his  wild  oats  he  will  no  doubt  return  to  a saner  style 
of  treatment.”  What  this  critic  would  have  said  had 
he  seen  the  slave  market  itself,  sweating  in  a sunlight 
that  almost  seared  the  eyes,  who  can  say?  It  is  a pity 
that  artists  cannot  hold  a sort  of  annual  tribunal  at  which 
all  their  principal  reviewers  would  be  obliged  to  attend, 
for  the  pleasure  of  explaining  and  confirming  their  printed 
opinions.  What  fun  there  would  be  ! And  if  any  critic 
broke  down  under  cross-examination,  he  could  be  sent 
So 


Contests  of  Criticism 


home  all  alone  in  a taxi,  so  that  no  cruel  eyes  might 
watch  the  slow  and  painful  return  of  his  wounded  self- 
belief. 

The  Athenczum  mourned  over  Brangwyn,  giving  some 
reasons:  “This  artist,  who  has  done  much  for  us  at  sea 
and  on  shipboard,  and  brought  large  knowledge  to  aid 
very  clear  views  of  nature,  has,  we  hope  only  for  a 
time,  left  the  mists  and  stormy  weather  of  the  northern 
seas  and  English  coasts  for  the  fiery  lustre  of  the  Medi- 
terranean, the  contrasting  splendour  and  dark  shadows 
of  Algerian  streets.  His  ‘Slave  Market’  belongs  to 
the  same  category  as  his  ‘ Buccaneers,’  and  is  pitched 
in  the  same  high  keys  of  light  and  most  fervid  colours. 
He  has  added  Arabs  and  others,  in  vivid  yellow,  green, 
white,  and  red  robes,  attending  the  selling  of  negresses, 
whose  naked  blackness  is  good  colour,  while  the  dark 
bronze  of  the  other  nudities  in  the  market  is  creditable  to 
Mr.  Brangwyn’s  taste  and  judgment.  A powerful  kaleido- 
scopic effect  is,  not  without  harmony,  produced  by  these 
means ; but  we  confess  to  thinking  that  the  unity,  sim- 
plicity, and  energy  of  his  pictures  of  Atlantic  subjects  are 
far  superior  to  barbaric  splendours  such  as  these,  and  we 
hope  Mr.  Brangwyn  will  soon  think  so  too.” 

Why  compare  opposed  subjects  ? Is  day  bad  because 
night  is  welcome?  Is  the  East  unfit  to  be  painted  because 
northern  themes  are  attractive  ? 

Another  critic  regretted  that  there  were  no  outcasts 
among  the  slaves  to  be  sold.  “ They  are  mostly  Hottentot 
Venuses,”  with  “ none  of  the  pathos  that  would  be  dis- 
covered in  a group  of  fifty-year-old  coal-miners  or  chain- 
makers  of  our  country.  A gang  of  English  wage-slaves 

5 1 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

after  twoscore  years  of  wage-slavery  would  present  a far 
more  tragic  group  than  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  ebon  beauties.” 
But  this  critic,  after  wandering  so  far  from  the  picture 
before  him,  rejoiced  that  “The  Slave  Market,”  when 
compared  with  a similar  work  by  Edwin  Long,  R.A., 
stood  out  “ as  a solid  graphic  composition  of  masterly 
colouring,  against  a weak  and  meretricious  composition 
of  feeble  colour.”  Why,  then,  did  he  ask  for  something 
else  ? Did  he  expect  a young  painter  to  be  perfect  ? 

It  will  be  noticed  how  very  rarely  the  painter’s  inten- 
tion was  considered.  He  was  little  more  than  a boy  in 
1893;  but  because  his  gifts  were  riper  than  his  years,  he 
was  often  treated  as  a master  who  had  fallen  short  of  his 
usual  mark  through  inattention  to  his  usual  methods  of 
work.  And  I have  dwelt  upon  these  matters,  giving 
quotations,  because  the  first  contests  of  criticism  are  more 
difficult  to  bear  than  any  others.  Youth  longs  for  the 
hope  of  encouragement,  just  as  plants  thirst  for  water  and 
the  sunlight. 


52 


CHAPTER  IV 


CONTESTS  OF  CRITICISM:  SUN-COLOUR  AND 
RELIGIOUS  ART 

WHAT  the  French  call  the  orientation  of 
modern  art  is  a subject  of  great  interest 
to  all  students  of  painting.  It  began, 
tentatively,  among  Englishmen  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  John  Webber,  RA.  (1752-1793), 
sailed  with  Captain  Cook  on  the  eventful  last  voyage 
in  1776;  and  William  Alexander  (1767-1816)  visited 
China  in  1792  as  draughtsman  to  Lord  Macartney’s 
mission.  Several  painters  went  out  to  India,  like 
William  Daniell,  RA.  (1769-1837),  but  they  carried 
England  in  their  paint-boxes,  and  came  home  with 
very  little  oriental  light  and  colour.  When  Brangwyn 
exhibited  “The  Buccaneers”  and  “The  Slave  Traders,” 
J.  F.  Lewis,  R.A.  (1805-1876),  and  poor  and  great 
William  Muller  (1812-1845),  were  the  only  painters  of 
the  East  whose  works  attracted  much  attention,  and  it 
was  often  asked  why  Brangwyn  did  not  work  in  the 
manner  of  J.  F.  Lewis,  whose  rendering  of  details 
could  not  be  excelled.  The  people  who  put  this  question 
would  have  been  ashamed  to  ask  why  a lion  was  not 
a leopard,  or  a nightingale  a full-fledged  eagle. 

Of  course  J.  F.  Lewis  is  excellent  and  delightful 
in  his  own  way.  Usually  with  transparent  colours  he 

53 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

painted  quickly  on  panels,  finishing  a given  part  at 
each  sitting ; the  ground  upon  which  he  worked  was 
a hard  and  polished  white  surface  specially  prepared 
for  him  ; and  as  he  belonged  to  the  same  school  that 
made  Frith  and  the  early  style  of  David  Wilkie,  he 
gave  infinite,  loving  care  to  his  treatment  of  details, 
never  acquiring  that  freer  vision  and  more  robust  style 
that  came  to  John  Phillip  in  his  Spanish  journeys  and 
studies.  Phillip  is  to  be  placed  among  Brangwyn’s 
lineal  forerunners,  side  by  side  with  William  Muller, 
who  gained  from  his  travels  in  Egypt,  in  Greece,  and 
in  Lycia,  an  outlook  in  art  and  an  amplitude  of  style 
that  will  ever  be  remarkable  in  British  schools.  Muller, 
so  to  speak,  was  the  Brangwyn  of  1845,  but  he  did  not 
live  long  enough  to  overcome  official  opposition.  The 
Royal  Academy,  like  the  British  Institution,  treated 
him  as  a sort  of  riotous  innovator — a person  who  could 
not  expect  to  be  tolerated  in  London.  Meantime,  artists 
went  to  Muller  for  lessons,  like  David  Cox,  who  sat  at 
the  feet  of  the  young  master,  and  spoke  of  him  always 
with  unstinted  enthusiasm.  Muller  died  at  the  age  of 
thirty-three,  leaving  a brave  record  of  good  work  in 
water-colour  and  in  oils.  He  delighted  in  vigour  and 
in  size,  like  Brangwyn  ; his  colour  was  very  fine,  and 
he  worked  with  marvellous  freedom.  Behind  his  large 
picture  of  “ The  Eel-Pots,”  painted  in  a single  day, 
Muller  wrote  : “ Left  for  some  fool  to  finish  ! ” — words 
that  Brangwyn  might  use  in  connection  with  many  of 
his  oil  sketches.  I cannot  help  thinking  that  if  Muller 
and  John  Phillip  had  been  remembered  by  London 
critics  between  1891  and  1895,  fewer  attacks  would  have 
54 


Sun-Colour  and  T^eligious  <Art 

been  made  on  Frank  Brangwyn,  for  it  would  have  been 
clear  then  that  he  belonged  to  a tradition  in  British 
art. 

Even  M.  Ldonce  Bdnddite,  who  has  given  much  time 
and  thought  to  the  study  of  Brangwyn’s  work,  has  failed 
to  discover  among  his  predecessors  in  England  any  direct 
ancestor  in  the  orientation  of  his  outlook  and  style.  In 
France,  on  the  other  hand,  where  oriental  painting  has 
been  one  of  the  principal  founders  of  the  modern  school, 
M.  Benddite  finds  several  masters  with  whom  Brangwyn 
has  an  elective  affinity,  mentioning  Delacroix,  Decamps, 
and  the  brave  Dehodencq,  whom  Brangwyn  knows  only 
by  name,  and  who  played  with  sonorous  effects  of  colour 
like  an  organist  with  notes  and  chords.  It  is  quite  true 
that  Brangwyn  would  be  more  at  home  among  these  big 
Frenchmen  than  he  is  at  exhibitions  in  London ; but 
you  will  find  a certain  kinship  of  temperament  be- 
tween him  and  several  Scotch  painters,  for  the  Scotch 
have  been  original  colourists  from  the  days  when  they 
invented  their  plaids.  John  Phillip  I have  mentioned, 
and  to  him  we  may  add  Sir  William  Allan  (1782-1850), 
who  visited  Turkey  and  other  countries.  As  to  Sir 
Henry  Raeburn,  who,  like  Turner  and  Bonington  and 
Holland,  owed  much  to  the  Italian  sunlight,  he  delighted 
in  a play  of  brush  that  appeals  very  strongly  to 
Brangwyn,  and  I have  often  wished  that  a great  ex- 
hibition could  be  held  of  all  those  British  painters  who 
have  brought  into  our  schools  some  influence  or  other 
from  sunny  countries  in  Europe  and  from  the  East. 
A great  many  of  our  artists  have  inherited  their  birth- 
right of  sun-colour  away  from  the  British  Isles. 


55 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 


It  was  in  “ The  Buccaneers  ” that  Brangwyn  showed 
for  the  first  time  with  success  what  he  had  newly  learnt 
from  the  East,  passing  on  rapidly  to  other  experiments — 
“ Trade  on  the  Beach  ” (bought  by  the  Luxembourg  in 
1895),  “The  Scoffers,”  “The  Adoration  of  the  Magi,” 
and  “ The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.” 

These  two  last  pictures  bring  us  to  a series  of 
works  that  I do  not  care  to  describe  as  scriptural, 

because  Bible  art  is  associated  with  time-honoured  con- 
ventions ; but  they  were  and  are  religious  within  those 
modern  limits  that  have  been  made  familiar  to  us  by 
Francois  Millet,  Max  Liebermann,  and  Professor  von 
Uhde.  When  Millet  was  asked  to  paint  for  the  Pope 
a picture  of  the  Immaculate  Conception,  he  did  not 
swerve  from  his  usual  style,  but  chose  for  his  model 
a humble  peasant  girl,  and,  reverent  in  the  manner  of 
“ The  Angelus,”  strove  to  reach  poetry  and  mystery 

through  the  door  of  the  life  that  he  knew  well  and 
loved  best.  Was  not  religion  an  essential  in  his  own 
life,  and  therefore  present  and  modern  ? True,  modernism 
in  sacred  art  has  been  carried  too  far  by  some  artists, 
as  by  Jean  Bdraud,  but  it  marks  an  attempt  to  make 

Bible  subjects  less  remote  from  to-day,  and  so  more 

contemporary  with  ourselves.  It  is  always  far  and  away 
better  than  the  rose-tinted  and  honey-sweet  prettiness  that 
Bouguereau  and  others  have  imported  into  a biblical  art 
very  much  valued  in  copyrights  ; and  sometimes  it  has 
notes  of  pathos,  of  deep  and  touching  sincerity,  that  will 
last  as  long  as  any  religious  picture  by  Portaels  or  by 
the  late  Mr.  Holman  Hunt. 

Brangwyn’s  contributions  to  this  movement  were  tenta- 
56^ 


Sun-Colour  and  Religious  drt 

tive,  but  they  had  great  interest,  though  our  English  critics 
very  often  missed  their  merits.  Perhaps  they  were  right 
to  complain  of  the  “ Eve,”  exhibited  at  the  Grafton  Galleries 
at  the  same  time  as  “The  Buccaneers.”  Not  only  was  this 
Eve  very  fleshy  in  a Rubenesque  way,  but  she  lacked 
the  impersonality  of  Rubens ; and  as  Brangwyn  placed 
his  Eve  in  a tangle  of  tropical  fruits  and  foliage,  and 
was  more  concerned  with  the  vagaries  of  real  light 
than  the  great  Fleming  ever  was,  he  used  greenish  re- 
flected tints  in  his  flesh  colour.  Several  critics  objected 
to  this,  and  one  of  them  asked : “ Once  admit  an 
emerald  Eve,  and  how  can  a puce  Adam  be  resisted, 
or  a mauve  Abel,  or  a cobalt  Cain?”  The  Saturday 
Review  happened  to  be  more  favourable,  saying  that  the 
picture  “had  a certain  decorative  distinction  and  qualities 
of  tone  and  colour  that  are  distressingly  absent  from  ‘The 
Buccaneers.’”  After  all,  the  picture  was  just  a study  of  the 
nude  seen  in  the  light  of  a tropical  wood  ; there  was  no 
need  to  introduce  the  Serpent.  Criticism  needs  no  pro- 
vocation, for  unkind  words  are  easier  to  write  than  kind. 
The  National  Review  declared  that  a modest  amateur 
might  say  to  himself  that  were  he  Adam,  and  Mr.  Brang- 
wyn’s  Eve  the  tempter,  there  would  have  been  no  Fall ; 
and  the  same  modest  amateur  might  go  so  far  as  to  hint 
that  he  could  find  surpassing  skill,  but  little  creative  art, 
in  Mr.  Whistler’s  well-known  “ Lady  Meux.” 

How  clearly  those  old  times  return  with  these  boome- 
rangs of  criticism!  When  Brangwyn,  in  1893,  exhibited 
at  the  New  Gallery  his  Adoration  of  the  Magi,  “ Gold, 
Frankincense  and  Myrrh,”  critics  had  quite  a good  time,  so 
opposed  were  they  in  their  verdicts.  That  a young  painter 
H 57 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

in  his  twenty-fifth  year  should  have  chosen  so  difficult  a 
subject  and  placed  it  in  a deep  and  mysterious  moonlight 
was  a thing  to  be  encouraged.  It  showed  a determination 
to  grapple  with  the  biggest  problems  that  painting  offers 
for  solution.  Yet  here  is  the  criticism  that  the  Spectator 
published:  “Readers  of  Heine  will  remember  his  dream  of  a 
bas-relief  of  Balaam  and  the  Ass,  in  which  the  Ass  was  an 
excellent  likeness.  Now,  in  a Nativity  the  Madonna  ought 
to  be  a possible  likeness,  and  bits  of  likeness  to  other  parts 
and  people  in  the  scene  must  have  very  extraordinary  merit 
to  excuse  so  essential  a defect.  The  picture  has  merits  and 
ability,  but  it  is  a shocking  Nativity.”  What  Balaam  has 
to  do  with  all  this  one  cannot  say,  unless  that  critic  wished 
to  imply  that  he  could  develop  fair  long  ears  like  Bottom 
the  Weaver.  Certainly  he  ought  to  have  known  that  the 
young  painter’s  subject  and  its  lighting  would  have  taxed 
the  powers  of  a Veronese  or  a Tintoretto.  The  composition, 
too,  did  not  try  to  evade  difficulties  ; it  sought  for  them  as 
problems  to  be  solved  for  the  sake  of  exercise  and  know- 
ledge. An  easy  type  of  composition  would  have  placed  the 
Virgin  on  our  left,  well  in  the  foreground,  but  not  too  near 
the  frame ; then  the  Magi  would  come  down  the  picture 
towards  her,  showing  their  full  faces.  Brangwyn  chose  a 
far  more  difficult  setting.  The  Madonna,  dressed  in  white, 
is  seated  in  the  middle  distance,  a little  towards  our  right 
hand,  a verandah  trellised  with  faded  vines  overhead,  and 
behind  a grey  house  shimmers  in  faint  moonlight.  St. 
Joseph  stands  near,  leaning  against  one  of  the  wooden 
posts  that  support  the  roof  of  trellis-work.  He  is  plainly 
a man  of  the  people,  a humble  carpenter,  but  his  features 
are  unattractive  in  profile ; they  seem  rather  outside  the 
58 


Sun-Colour  and  Religious  *Art 

painter’s  sympathy  and  emotion.  From  the  brown  earth 
near  St.  Joseph  some  tall  white  lilies  grow;  and  a negro 
boy,  who  accompanies  the  Magi,  carries  an  offering — a big 
golden  bowl.  The  Magi  themselves,  having  passed  up  the 
picture  from  our  left  towards  the  Madonna,  stand  erect, 
one  in  profile,  the  others  with  their  backs  turned  to  the 
spectator.  They  are  stately  and  quiescent  figures,  clothed 
in  picturesque  Moorish  robes,  and  around  them  the  moon- 
light plays  as  a ghostly  presence.  Beyond  the  Magi,  in 
various  attitudes  of  curiosity,  are  other  pilgrims. 

This  being  the  theme,  try  to  imagine  to  yourself  its 
many  difficulties.  You  have  to  make  real  in  paint  a subject 
that  brings  you  into  competition  with  a great  many  noble 
old  pictures,  all  familiar  to  educated  persons  ; and  a good 
many  of  Brangwyn’s  reviewers  were  as  vexed  as  they  would 
have  been  if  some  young  poet  had  asked  them  to  review 
a play  of  his  own  called  “Hamlet”  or  “Othello.”  The 
Standard  was  among  a few  exceptions,  admitting  that, 
whatever  the  picture  lacked,  it  was  nowhere  marred  by 
insincerity  of  intention  or  flippancy  of  purpose ; in  colour 
it  had  the  fascination  of  an  ordered  reticence,  and  in  line 
that  dignity  which  counted  always  for  so  much  as  an 
element  in  style.  But  listen,  now,  to  the  A thenceum : 
“ Another  ambitious  mistake  on  a needlessly  large  scale  is 
Mr.  Brangwyn’s  version  of  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi, 
really  an  ill-composed  group  of  life-size  lay  figures,  nearly 
all  back  views,  heavily  draped  in  colours  of  low  keys  : a 
shadowless,  flat  and  feebly  toned  example  which  possesses 
none  of  the  vigour  of  his  ‘ Slave  Market  ’ at  the  Academy. 
It  is  a pity  so  good  an  artist  has  thrown  himself  away 
so  completely.” 


59 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  W >rk 

From  this  attempt  to  browbeat  a young  artist  I wish  to 
pick  out  one  word,  because  it  tells  you  at  once  how  small 
was  the  amount  of  original  observation  that  the  fault-finder 
thought  necessary  in  art  criticism.  He  speaks  of  the 
figures  as  “ flat,”  not  knowing  that  moonlight  invariably 
produces  an  effect  of  flatness.  Brangwyn  knew  this,  while 
a good  many  of  his  critics  did  not.  Max  Nordau,  on  the 
other  hand,  like  Ldonce  Bdnddite,  understood  the  young 
painter’s  aim,  and  described  his  researchful  effort  as  a 
night-piece  reposefully  coloured  and  marvellously  deep. 
It  is  true  that  several  foreign  critics  thought  the  Magi 
inferior  to  the  Buccaneers,  but  there  was  no  need  to  com- 
pare unlikes.  Moreover,  it  is  not  at  all  difficult  to  explain 
why  this  picture  has  defects  here  and  there.  The  painter, 
when  he  started  his  work,  was,  I think,  like  a modern 
Bassano,  painting  with  a countrified  simplicity  and  rever- 
ence ; but  no  sooner  did  he  come  to  the  gilded  haloes  than 
his  emotion  underwent  a change,  those  ancient  symbols 
of  the  Divine  being  somehow  at  odds  with  the  rusticity 
implied  by  a carpenter’s  life  and  work.  Later,  when  he 
endeavoured  to  paint  the  Magi,  he  began  to  feel  in  sym- 
pathy with  that  austere  reserve,  that  haughty  and  calm 
self-control  that  belongs  to  many  peoples  in  the  East.  If 
Brangwyn  had  chosen  the  Adoration  of  the  Shepherds  his 
first  emotion  would  have  lasted  throughout  the  subject,  and 
his  picture  would  have  been  finer  and  more  sympathetic, 
as  well  as  much  nearer  to  the  real  bent  of  his  genius. 

“ Rest,”  another  religious  piece,  is  a Holy  Family,  new 
in  feeling,  vague  and  fascinating.  Mary,  with  the  Infant 
Jesus  asleep  in  her  arms,  sits  on  a well-side  shaded  by 
trees  ; she  is  wrapped  in  contemplation  over  her  Child, 
60 


Sun-Colour  and  T^eligious  *Art 

while  a passer-by  stops  and  drinks  water  from  his  hands. 
Mr.  George  Moore  reviewed  this  picture,  taking  for  his 
standpoint  the  minute  subtleties  of  atmospheric  treatment 
that  the  French  Impressionists  were  trying  to  make 
popular.  He  said  : “ This  picture  is  an  example  of  the 
Glasgow  school  of  painting;  and  the  method  of  that  school 
seems  to  be  a complete  suppression  of  what  is  known  as 
values.  By  values  I mean  the  black  and  white  relation  of 
tones,  the  relation  of  this  shadow  to  that  shadow,  of  this 
light  to  that  light.  Aerial  perspective  and  chiaroscuro  are 
attained  by  a delicate  perception  of  and  a delicate  distribu- 
tion of  values.  Now,  if  you  look  at  ‘ Rest  ’ you  will  see 
that  values  have  been  systematically  ignored ; there  is 
therefore  neither  light  nor  air  in  the  picture ; its  beauty  is 
that  of  a Turkey  carpet.  But  a Turkey  carpet  is  beautiful 
and  harmonious,  and  so  is  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  picture.” 

I cannot  follow  Mr.  Moore  entirely  in  this  analysis, 
for  a photograph  of  the  picture  shows  that  the  painter’s 
aim  was  entirely  decorative,  and  that  the  relations  of  tone, 
translated  into  black  and  white,  give  a most  interesting 
result. 

The  Standard  was  of  this  opinion  seemingly,  for  its 
critic  admired  “ Rest  ” because  “ its  great  quality  of 
massiveness  ” had  a “ beautiful  and  delicately  studied 
relationship  of  part  to  part,”  and  because  “ its  balance  of 
low  tones  ” went  hand  in  hand  with  a “ largfe  decorative 
effect.”  “Rest”  to  my  eyes  needs  but  one  thing:  more 
attention  might  have  been  given  to  the  choice  of  a model 
for  the  Virgin,  because  painters  ought  never  to  forget  that 
each  historic  ideal  of  womankind  has  formed  for  itself  an 
ideal  beauty  that  artists  may  treat  variously,  but  never 

61 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

with  such  character  as  recalls  the  day-by-day  realism  of 
life.  For  any  ideal  held  by  mankind  is  imagination,  is 
poetry,  sanctified  by  long  inheritance.  From  existing 
portraits  we  may  suppose,  for  example,  that  Mary  Queen 
of  Scots  was  not  beautiful,  but  no  artist  ought  ever  to 
dispute  the  old  and  popular  belief  in  her  loveliness.  Joan 
of  Arc,  again,  as  typified  by  Bastien  Lepage,  has  fine  rustic 
character,  but  never  in  this  world  will  that  realism  be 
accepted  by  the  chivalry  of  men.  Joan  must  stir  all  hearts 
with  her  radiant  face  and  bewitching  fervour  ; no  artist 
can  create  a beauty  too  noble  for  her,  as  she  belongs  for 
all  time  to  a universal  admiration  that  forms  vaguely 
exalted  ideas  of  womanly  graciousness.  The  Welsh 
peasant  who  said  of  Queen  Victoria,  in  grievous  dis- 
appointment, “ Ah,  but  her  face  is  just  a mother’s,  look 
you,”  is  an  example  of  the  yearning  for  something  unusual 
that  accompanies  all  popular  idealisations.  Yet  modern 
art,  misunderstanding  this  matter,  has  offended  against  a 
good  many  ancient  and  lasting  ideals.  It  has  forgotten 
that  there  are  times  when  realism  must  rise  from  Mother 
Earth  like  a lark  from  its  nest,  and  be  near  at  the  same 
moments  to  the  dual  points  of  heaven  and  home. 

But  if  Brangwyn  in  his  Virgin  Mary  had  not  enough 
confidence  in  his  imagination,  he  certainly  discovered  a 
winning  type  of  motherhood. 

Turn  we  now  to  another  religious  painting,  “The 
Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,”  a work  not  without 
defects,  but  noble  in  conception.  When  this  subject  first 
occurred  to  him,  Brangwyn  consulted  one  of  his  most 
helpful  friends,  Dr.  Tom  Robinson,  of  London,  who  said, 
“Yes,  and  why  should  not  Christ  be  strong  enough 
62 


Sun-Colour  and  T^eligious  dirt 

physically  to  draw  a net?”  With  this  hint  in  mind  the 
painter  made  some  studies,  only  to  find  that  his  mind 
and  hand  recoiled  from  the  perils  of  trying  to  represent 
the  Saviour  as  the  principal  figure  in  a picture.  It 
would  be  better  to  think  of  Christ  as  a distant  spectator 
of  His  miracle,  and  from  this  standpoint  the  painting 
must  be  judged. 

“ The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  ” was  first  ex- 
hibited at  the  New  Gallery  in  1894,  and  then  at  the  Paris 
Salon  of  the  following  year.  It  was,  perhaps,  the  least 
tentative  of  the  larger  religious  pictures  that  Brangwyn 
painted  in  those  early  days.  In  London,  to  be  sure,  it 
was  too  often  criticised  as  if  its  painter  had  suddenly 
weakened,  after  an  experience  of  thirty  years  ; but  he  was 
gradually  being  recognised  as  a leader  of  our  young 
painters,  perhaps  because  his  great  successes  in  Paris  were 
valued  by  Englishmen.  M.  Ary  Renan  had  said  a strong 
word  for  him  in  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette , after  speaking 
about  the  bizarre  antiquity  that  our  Academic  school  was 
then  trying  to  revive.  It  was  not  the  heroic  antiquity  to 
be  found  at  the  British  Museum,  said  Ary  Renan  ; it  was 
a little  decadent  antiquity,  a powdered  and  patched  anti- 
quity, curled  and  tawdry,  mere  fashion  and  imitation. 
“Where  must  you  go  in  London  to  find  a conscientious 
painting  of  life  and  light,  of  man  and  nature?  Are  there 
painters  of  reality?  Are  they  all  lumped  together  among 
the  rejected  whose  acquaintance  I should  be  so  pleased  to 
make?”  It  was  at  this  point  that  M.  Ary  Renan  remem- 
bered Brangwyn,  and  though  he  recognised  that  so  young 
a man  must  be  immature  and  uneven,  he  made  haste  to 
say:  “No  matter;  the  eye  is  happy  before  the  frames  of 

63 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

this  new-comer ; the  eye  opens  and  takes  in  a real  joy.  In 
France  we  shall  be  sincerely  disappointed  if  Mr.  Brangwyn 
does  not  keep  the  promises  he  is  giving  in  his  art.” 

The  tone  of  that  criticism  gave  the  painter  heart  to 
work  on,  despite  all  opposition.  He  was  told  by  one 
writer  that  “ The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  ” was  a 
big  picture  pretentiously  conceived,  that  the  disciples  in  it 
were  effective,  but  in  an  Algerine  pirate  sort  of  way,  and 
that  the  figure  of  Christ  was  painfully  weak  and  conven- 
tional. Well  now!  Christ  was  represented  in  the  distance; 
and  as  the  picture  was  lighted  by  an  after-glow  of  sunset 
growing  dim  and  misty,  the  Saviour  was  intended  not  to 
be  seen  in  the  composition,  but  felt  there  as  a vague 
presence.  It  is  very  pleasant  to  remember  that  Mr.  G.  F. 
Watts  was  delighted  with  Brangwyn’s  intentions,  and 
followed  his  doings  from  year  to  year.  “ I always  admire 
your  work  very  much  and  look  out  for  it,”  he  wrote  on 
September  30,  1894.  “ I hope  you  won’t  give  up  your 

grand  schemes  of  colour,”  he  added  the  following  day ; and 
again,  “ I think  your  treatment  of  broad  masses  of  colour 
just  the  right  thing  for  fresco.”  And  here,  too,  are  the 
opinions  expressed  by  an  American  artist  and  writer,  Mr. 
Lorado  Taft,  on  “The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  ” : — 
“The  picture  was  delightfully  novel  and  individual 
in  its  point  of  view.  The  iridescent  hues  of  the  fishes 
were  repeated  in  some  sort  throughout  the  entire  canvas. 
Though  in  a sense  an  arbitrary  or  fanciful  scheme — a 
dream  picture — it  was  yet,  withal,  the  work  of  a man  whose 
every  touch  expressed  vigour  and  confidence.  I liked  it. 
And  what  is  considerably  more  important,  the  big  French 
artists  did  likewise.  Our  good  friend,  Raffaelli,  told  me 

64 


Sun-Colour  and  Religious  <drt 

that  there  were  just  two  pictures  aux  Champs  Rlysdes  that 
interested  him — Henri  Martin’s  big  decoration  for  the 
Hotel  de  Ville,  and  Brangwyn’s  Peche  MiraculeuseC  ( Arts 
for  America,  December  1897.) 

From  the  Paris  Salon  Mr.  Taft  came  to  London,  and 
saw  the  Royal  Academy  and  the  New  Gallery  (1895).  At 
both  he  found  a picture  by  Brangwyn.  “Rest”  hung  at 
the  Academy.  “ There  was  nothing  of  the  conventional 
religious  painting  in  it,  but  still,  in  a way,  it  suggested  the 
Holy  Family.  It  impressed  me  as  something  weird  and 
mighty,  like  a great  half-hewn  block  in  Michael  Angelo’s 
workshop,  as  it  might  have  looked  in  the  evening  dusk ; 
only  here,  again,  was  a charm  of  rich  colouring.  Portions 
recalled  possibly  Vedder’s  chocolates  and  greys,  but  instead 
of  using  these  tones  monotonously,  they  were  flecked  here 
and  there  with  rich  warm  accents,  as  though  a flood  of 
orange  and  gold  and  colour  of  flame  had  been  poured  over 
the  figures  and  foliage,  while  the  background  had  a dull 
glow  of  live  coals.  Coming,  as  I had,  from  the  realism  of 
the  French,  and  already  well  wearied  by  the  indescribable 
fatuity  and  feebleness  of  the  work  around  me,  I turned  to 
this  triumphant  canvas  with  a feeling  of  refreshment  and 
pleasure  difficult  to  describe.” 

The  New  Gallery  came  next : — 

“ I had  scarce  stepped  into  the  principal  hall  when  I 
became  conscious  of  yet  another  of  these  strange,  fasci- 
nating works.  It  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  . . . 
and  when  I reached  it  ...  I was  indeed  in  the  presence 
of  one  of  the  masterful  pictures  of  our  time.  The  impres- 
sion was  something  tremendous : a great  gaunt  figure  of 
a dying  man  seated  upon  a platform  of  rock,  his  emaciated 
1 65 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

body  supported  by  a rude  wooden  post.  Opposite  him, 
and  subordinate,  a priest  and  a young  acolyte,  who  offer 
the  agonised  fanatic  his  last  communion.  A second  glance 
and  one  perceives  through  the  unusual  perspective  of  the 
scene  that  its  subject — and  we  as  well — are  supposed  to  be 
elevated  to  a great  height ; our  lone  sufferer  can  be  no 
other  than  St.  Simeon  Stylites  of  old,  upon  the  elevated 
column  which  he  fondly  hoped  would  bring  him  nearer 
God.  Away  down  a dizzy  depth  and  stretching  to  a far 
horizon  were  the  streets  and  buildings  of  the  city  which 
the  saint  had  renounced  years  before,  and  in  the  yet  more 
distant  distance  a wall  of  darkening  mountains  and  the 
blue  waters  of  a shoreless  sea.  All  was  bathed  in  the 
golden  haze  of  sunset,  and  it  was  glorious  with  colour  and 
power.  How  it  spoiled  the  little  works  about  it ! How 
thin  and  artificial  they  all  looked  ! . . . Can  the  author 
of  St.  Simeon  be  a Londoner,  a brother  of  the  men  who 
paint  these  things  ? ” 

This  criticism  can  be  put  side  by  side  with  most  of 
those  that  appeared  in  English  papers.  Its  standpoint  is 
different — more  objective,  free  from  dilettante  prejudices, 
and  responsive  to  vigour  of  treatment  and  to  fine  new 
schemes  of  colour.  The  ardent  young  American  and  Mr. 
G.  F.  Watts  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight  were  greatly  moved 
by  the  same  qualities.  But  it  is  right  and  necessary  for 
me  to  say  that  the  picture  of  St.  Simeon  Stylites  caught 
Brangwyn  in  two  moods,  and  that  he  made  a mistake  when 
he  departed  from  the  composition  of  his  original  sketch.1 
Here  St.  Simeon  was  alone,  dying  in  complete  solitude, 

1 It  was  purchased  by  Mr.  William  O.  Cole  of  Chicago.  The  other  picture  hangs  in  the 
Gallery  of  Modern  Art  at  Venice 
66 


Sun-Colour  and  Religious  elrt 

but  finding  his  beliefs  a companionship  of  resignation. 
Add  to  this  any  other  figures  and  your  work  begins  to 
speak  of  picture-making,  and  onlookers  are  disturbed 
because  they  begin  to  wonder  how  a priest  and  his  acolyte 
mounted  a pillar  twenty-four  yards  high,  or  more,  according 
to  the  legend.  But  after  all,  the  story  as  told  by  the 
finished  work  is  a matter  of  indifference.  It  is  the  wonder- 
ful harmony  of  good  paint  that  makes  this  picture  so  ex- 
pressive. “It  is  late  in  the  day;  twilight  is  approaching; 
the  last  ray  of  sunlight  is  finely  sprinkled  through  the  air 
around  the  figures  above  the  roofs  of  the  Syrian  town,  from 
which  rises  a transparent  cloud,  so  thin  that  it  is  rather 
a breath,  an  exhalation,  than  a vapour ; it  is  more  surmised 
than  seen.  A flight  of  swallows  glides  past  the  saint ; and 
the  birds,  with  their  arrow-swift  and  pleasing  motions,  ob- 
served in  the  precise  Japanese  way,  greatly  help  to  produce 
an  impression  of  height  and  airiness  ...”  1 M.  Ary  Renan 
was  not  so  well  pleased,  while  M.  Jourdain  continued  for 
some  years  to  speak  of  the  picture  as  “ I'inoubliable 
Simdon  Stylite — une  fougueuse  et  superbe  toile  ou  les 
tons , violemment  juxtaposes,  se  fondent  pourtant  dans 
un  lumineux  ensemble." 

Still,  religious  art  cannot  be  looked  at  exclusively  from 
a modern  point  of  view,  and  I remember  a criticism  that 
contrasted  Brangwyn  with  Flandrin.  It  appeared  in  La 
Revue  des  Deux  Mondes,  and  was  written  by  M.  Lafenestre, 
who  at  that  time  was  director  of  the  Louvre.  No  judge 
could  have  been  fairer  than  M.  Lafenestre.  He  had  studied 
Brangwyn’s  “ Adoration  of  the  Magi,”  2 and  although  he 

1 “Art  and  Artists,”  by  Max  Nordau,  pp.  233-234.  T.  Fisher  Unwin. 

: This  painting  belongs  to  Mr.  E.  Seegar  of  Berlin. 


67 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

noticed  several  weak  points,  notably  a lack  of  response 
in  tenderness  of  technique  to  the  poetry  of  the  Madonna, 
he  was  much  impressed  by  the  way  in  which  the  three 
Magi  told  in  their  attitudes  that  they  had  indeed  found  the 
shrine  where  their  gifts  were  to  be  offered.  “ I/s  ont  des 
attitudes  si  graves  et  si  recueillies,  l' harmonie  souvde  et 
grise  qui  les  enveloppe  d/gage  taut  de  calme  et  d’ ' apaisement , 
qu'on  se  surprend  a rester , comme  eux,  en  contemplation 
devant  cette  m/re  et  cet  enfant  I M.  Lafenestre  noticed 
also  that  the  painter’s  dominant  feeling  as  a craftsman 
made  his  work  more  robust  and  more  audacious  than 
Flandrin’s.  True,  Flandrin  belonged  to  an  earlier  school 
of  modern  religious  painting.  There  was  a classical  cold- 
ness in  his  rhythm  of  line,  and  he  approached  Bible  subjects 
with  a sort  of  timid  dignity,  unlike  Tintoretto,  Veronese, 
Michael  Angelo,  and  Titian.  Flandrin  was  quiescent  in  his 
moods,  like  Burne-Jones,  and  his  manner  was  decorative, 
not  pictorial.  That  was  Flandrin’s  real  merit ; but  he, 
like  Burne-Jones,  would  not  have  hesitated  to  put  aside  a 
physical  law  if  it  threatened  to  impart  a vigorous  action  to 
his  regulated  style,  whose  movement  was  as  ordered  as 
a clock  keeping  good  time.  I think  here  of  two  lines  in  a 
poem  by  Baudelaire  : — 

“ Je  hais  le  mouvement  qui  deplace  les  lignes, 

Et  jamais  je  ne  pleure  et  jamais  je  ne  ris.” 

Yes,  Flandrin  could  have  said : “ I hate  the  movement 
that  upsets  the  lines,  and  never  do  I weep,  and  never  do 
I laugh.” 

Now  that  form  of  religious  art  is  not  great  in  psycho- 
logy. The  Bible  is  the  book  of  man  ; it  contains  an  infinite 
68 


THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST. 
nal  Oil-Painting , now  in  the  A rt  Gallery  at  Stuttgart. 


an  Ori, 


Sun-Colour  and  Religious  *Art 

variety  of  human  nature  and  conduct,  all  seen  in  actions 
briefly  related  ; and  any  painter  who  would  take  his  inspira- 
tions from  this  great  volume  of  dramatic  poems,  must 
respond  in  his  emotions  to  the  life  of  each  subject  chosen, 
both  in  its  outward  aspects  and  in  its  inward  and  spiritual 
meaning.  Flandrin  did  not  realise  the  truth  of  this 
because  he  had  set  ideas  about  beauty,  and  was  afraid  to 
ruffle  the  composure  of  his  quiet  and  mannered  adherence 
to  rules.  His  ideal  of  beauty  had  a slow  pulse,  very  little 
of  passion  or  desire,  and  very  calm  nerves.  There  are 
minds  to  whom  this  ideal  of  beauty  is  a joy  ; others 
enlarge  it  just  a little,  adding  some  human  warmth  ; but 
if  you  press  for  a definition  of  beauty  from  each  of  a dozen 
critics,  you  will  understand  why  artistic  criticism  is  usually 
so  little  catholic.  The  beauty  that  appeals  to  Brangwyn 
is  in  accordance  with  the  definition  given  by  Lord  Morley 
in  an  article  on  Browning’s  “The  Ring  and  the  Book.” 
Beauty  cannot  mean  anything  more  than  such  an  arrange- 
ment and  disposition  of  the  parts  of  a work  as,  first 
kindling  a great  variety  of  dispersed  emotions  and  thoughts 
in  the  mind  of  the  spectator,  finally  concentrate  them  in  a 
single  mood  of  joyous,  sad,  meditative,  or  interested  delight. 
A sculptor,  a painter,  a musician,  a poet,  have  each  a 
special  means  of  producing  this  final  and  superlative 
impression ; each  is  bound,  in  one  direction  and  another, 
by  certain  limits  of  expression  imposed  upon  him  by  the 
medium  in  which  he  works.  A painter  is  greatly  favoured 
in  three  ways  : from  first  to  last,  and  in  a second,  he  can 
judge  his  effect  as  a whole,  unlike  writers,  so  that  his  art 
is  less  difficult  in  composition  ; next,  his  human  actions 
are  made  real  in  a witchery  of  colour ; and  then,  his  critics 

69 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TVork 

see  what  he  has  done  all  at  once,  as  in  a vision  that  appears 
suddenly,  while  in  literature  we  have  to  read  till  the  piece 
ends,  and  our  judgment  is  determined  by  two  difficult 
things : practice  in  reading  with  attention  and  practice  in 
remembering  what  we  read. 

If  we  misunderstand  a painter’s  aim  it  is  our  own  fault, 
because  we  can  stand  before  his  work  and  see  it  as  a whole, 
without  any  effort  of  memory.  The  useful  and  necessary 
thing  is  to  clear  our  minds  of  all  dogmatising  about  classic 
beauty,  and  to  see  whether  the  painter  has  done  justice,  in 
his  own  way,  to  his  conception  of  a chosen  subject.  He 
has  taken  a given  theme — that  is  to  say,  a given  set  of 
actions,  all  alive  with  human  character  and  emotion ; and 
this  theme  has  a definite  setting,  and  is  subject  to  the 
magic  play  of  light  and  colour.  If  the  painter  feels  in  a 
dramatic  manner  each  part  of  his  composition,  the  senti- 
ment of  his  technique  will  respond  to  the  sentiment  of 
each  part,  just  as  Shakespeare  is  a child  in  one  rdle,  a 
woman  in  another,  and  a murderer  in  a third.  When  a 
painter  is  young  there  are  always  sudden  breaks  in  the 
changing  emotion  shown  by  his  craftsmanship,  for  he  is 
drawn  to  things  that  he  does  with  the  least  difficulty  and 
therefore  with  the  greatest  enjoyment ; and  it  was  for  this 
reason  that  M.  Lafenestre  dwelt  upon  the  strong  points 
in  Brangwyn’s  “Adoration  of  the  Magi,”  without  attacking 
any  weakness. 

In  England,  on  the  other  hand,  such  attacks  were 
perhaps  inevitable,  because  many  of  our  critics  were  then 
accustomed  to  a mannered  kind  of  historical  painting,  so 
they  disliked  the  realisation  of  life  in  religious  work. 
“ The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes  ” was  condemned, 
70 


Sun-Colour  and  T^eligious  Art 

more  than  once,  because  Brangwyn,  having  in  his  mind 
the  uncommon  weight  of  the  fishes,  had  given  energy  to 
the  bearded  disciple  who  strained  at  the  fishing  net. 
There  would  have  been  nothing  miraculous  in  a little 
draught  easy  to  be  landed,  so  that  muscular  action 
belonged  to  the  poetry  of  the  scene ; but  the  painter  did 
not  allow  this  truth  to  be  too  prominent,  since  he  veiled 
it  with  evening  light.  One  may  see  in  all  this  what  M. 
Geffroy  has  noticed — “ /’ imagination  est  celle  cTiin  poeted 
For  the  rest,  while  painting  these  religious  pictures, 
Brangwyn  exhibited  a good  many  other  works,  mainly 
incidents  from  African  and  Eastern  life,  like  his  “Trade 
on  the  Beach,”  his  “Orange  Market,”  and  “The  Goat- 
herds,” a picture  of  life-sized  figures,  perhaps  a little  too 
rugged  in  handling,  but  proving  that  the  artist  had  found 
his  own  style.  M.  Ary  Renan  said  that  he  shone  “ comme 
un  morceau  de  covail  dans  ravine  battue  pav  tons  ” / and 
it  is  not  often  that  a young  painter  attains  a good  and 
distinctive  manner.  Indeed,  modern  education  and  work 
act  on  the  young  as  running  water  acts  on  pebbles,  wearing 
away  their  individuality  and  giving  to  them  all  a similar 
polish.  Brangwyn  was  withdrawn  from  this  mediocrity 
by  a youth  of  hard  experience ; that  is  why  London  critics 
did  not  always  know  what  to  make  of  his  free  strength  and 
naturalness.  Every  one  of  his  sunny  pictures  met  with  a 
very  mixed  reception.  Here,  for  example,  are  two  criticisms 
of  “ Trade  on  the  Beach,”  one  by  the  Athenceum,  and  the 
other  by  the  Movning  Post : — 

Athenceum. — “A  large,  heavily  painted,  not  to  say 
coarse,  badly  composed  group  of  costumes  rather  than 
men,  placed  upon  a sandy  shore.  The  scene  is  supposed 

7i 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

to  be  African,  the  effect  that  of  hot  and  intense  sunlight. 
At  no  point  has  the  painter  succeeded  ; in  fact  he  has 
completely  failed  in  nearly  every  respect.  Such  work  as 
this  may  be  bold,  but  it  is  not  fine  art.” 

Morning  Post. — “Admirably  realises  the  effect  of  hot 
sunshine,  and  is  to  be  commended  for  its  beauty  of  colour 
and  equal  grace  and  vigour  of  general  execution.  The 
plan  of  the  picture  necessitates  the  intervention  of  plenty 
of  space  between  the  spectator  and  the  painting.  The 
work  is  altogether  one  of  such  eminent  merit  as  cannot 
fail  to  bring  fresh  access  of  fame  to  a painter  who  has 
already  achieved  well-deserved  celebrity.” 

I forget  now  who  wrote  for  the  Morning  Post  between 
1890  and  1895,  but  his  opinions  on  Brangwyn’s  work  were 
all  confirmed  on  the  Continent,  and  they  were  encouraging 
at  a time  when  abuse  was  common. 

Better  times  were  coming,  little  by  little,  bringing  with 
them  patrons  like  Mr.  T.  L.  Devitt,  Dr.  Tom  Robinson, 
Mr.  Kitson,  Mr.  Kenneth  S.  Anderson,  Mr.  Mansergh, 
Mr.  MacCulloch,  and  others  ; as  well  as  sympathetic  critics 
like  the  editor  of  the  Studio  Magazine , ever  a true  friend. 
Since  then  there  has  been  no  concession  to  any  popular 
notions  as  to  what  attractive  painting  should  be.  For 
Brangwyn,  like  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling,  has  formed  his 
own  style,  and  his  progress  has  followed  the  line  of 
least  resistance,  developing  those  qualities  that  come  to 
him  unsought,  like  his  joy  in  colour,  and  his  feeling  for 
breadth,  scale,  power,  and  decorative  arrangement.  At  this 
moment  he  stands  at  the  head  of  all  those  British  painters 
who  from  time  to  time  have  turned  from  easel  pictures  to 
the  larger  and  bolder  conventions  of  style  that  belong  to 
72 


Sun-Colour  and  "Religious  *Art 

art  in  its  relation  to  mural  decoration.  He  is  a workman 
in  the  old,  big  way,  but  in  a manner  distinctively  his  own. 
It  is  quite  unnecessary  for  him  to  sign  his  name.  We 
know  his  work  as  we  know  the  music  of  Wagner,  the  prose 
of  Hugo  and  Carlyle ; and  whether  it  attracts  you  or  repels 
you,  its  life  is  spontaneous  and  organic.  Of  Brangwyn’s 
art  at  its  best  we  may  say  what  Cardinal  Newman  said  of 
something  else:  “Such  work  is  always  open  to  criticism, 
and  it  is  always  above  it.” 

And  this  being  so,  we  can  study  its  later  characteristics, 
not  year  by  year,  as  we  have  done  in  the  first  pictures,  but 
from  wider  standpoints,  remembering  that  no  artist  ever 
progresses  without  set-backs.  Ill-health,  unsatisfactory 
commissions,  troubles,  bereavements,  came  to  him  every 
now  and  again  ; and  criticism  must  pass  by  in  silence  all 
defects  of  art  arising  from  such  causes. 


K 


73 


CHAPTER  V 


CHARACTERISTICS:  LIGHT  AND  COLOUR 

MODERN  painting  has  taken  for  its  motto  the 
last  words  spoken  by  Goethe — “More  light”; 
and  Goethe,  like  modern  painting,  developed 
theories  on  colour.  This  hobby  became  an 
obsession,  and  the  great  man  believed  that  science  ought 
to  adopt  his  careful  observations.  But  the  phenomena  of 
light  are  like  mirages,  and  the  poet’s  theories  on  colour 
are  forgotten.  Have  painters  succeeded  where  Goethe 
failed  ? Have  they  found  some  great  new  ways  of  manipu- 
lating paint,  as  variously  charming  as  those  conventional 
colour-schemes  that  we  still  enjoy  in  the  work  of  Old 
Masters  ? If  so,  is  painting  to  creep  nearer  and  nearer  to  an 
imitation  of  things  seen  ? or  should  we  own  frankly  that 
because  tubes  of  pigment  cannot  give  us  real  daylight 
and  sun-colours,  it  matters  not  what  methods  and  con- 
ventions a painter  adopts  or  in  part  invents,  if  only  he 
belongs  to  his  own  time  and  is  born  to  delight  us  with 
a poetry  of  coloured  forms  nobly  orchestrated  into  un- 
common harmonies?  Briefly,  can  art  ever  approach  too 
near  to  nature? 

If  these  questions  could  be  answered  conclusively, 
modern  art  would  benefit  very  much,  and  criticism  of  art 
would  become  ampler  and  more  charitable.  Turner  was 
74 


Characteristics 


ridiculed,  Cotman  died  broken-hearted  in  great  poverty, 
and  many  others  have  had  long  and  stern  battles  against 
routine  prejudices,  like  Brangwyn.  Are  we  ever  to  pos- 
sess great  painters  without  foolish  efforts  to  break  their 
courage?  Surely  it  is  high  time  that  a critical  apprecia- 
tion of  art  arrived  at  some  catholicity  in  common  sense 
and  goodwill. 

But  there  are  many  difficulties  to  be  overcome.  First 
of  all,  critics  may  be  divided  into  two  classes  with  strongly 
opposed  limitations.  In  one  class  we  find  the  most 
modern  men,  whose  aims  are  often  sectarian,  backing  up 
this  or  that  little  group  of  experimentalists.  Some  of  them 
even  try  to  like  the  abortive  rubbish  that  appears  in  certain 
foreign  magazines  as  a valuable  new  discovery  in  aesthetic 
ideals.  Perhaps  it  may  lead  to  something  good,  but  at 
present  it  is  nothing  more  than  a bungled  trial-trip,  and 
ought  therefore  to  be  kept  away  from  public  criticism,  just  as 
men  of  science  leave  in  the  dark  their  fruitless  experiments. 
Why  should  art  display  to  all  the  world  her  tentative 
efforts,  her  laboratory  research?  A horrible  vanity  tells 
many  young  craftsmen  to  publish  their  failures,  regardless 
of  the  harm  they  do  to  a whole  profession  ; for  the  people 
jeer  and  take  sides  with  the  other  school  of  criticism,  whose 
likes  and  dislikes  are  very  conservative  and  dogmatic. 
Nothing  could  be  worse  than  that.  For,  indeed,  consider 
how  a conservative  critic  has  formed  his  opinions.  He 
will  speak  to  you  by  the  hour  about  the  Old  Masters,  and 
presently  you  see  that  all  his  ideas  on  light  and  colour  are 
out  of  date  even  as  regards  those  Masters,  because  colour 
is  greatly  changed  by  time  and  varnish,  and  none  can 
tell  now  what  it  was  like  when  the  strong  men  of  the 

75 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IF  or k 

past  finished  their  work.  Was  Rubens  garish  ? Was 
Veronese  crude  ? Did  Correggio  become  too  dappled  in 
his  values  ? We  do  not  know,  neither  can  we  learn  from 
criticisms  contemporary  with  the  pictures ; for  these  are 
useless  for  such  a purpose  because  methods  of  art  used 
to  be  accepted  as  a matter  of  course,  like  fashions  in 
costumes.  What  the  eyes  look  at  day  by  day  is  never  seen 
quite  truly.  But  we  may  be  sure  that  when  the  Old 
Masters  painted  for  the  dim  light  of  churches  they  gave 
their  schemes  of  colour  a high  key,  and  did  not  mind  when 
their  effects  looked  crude  in  a stronger  light. 

Conservative  critics  forget  all  this,  and  imagine  that 
the  best  of  all  educations  for  the  sense  of  colour  is  a 
pilgrimage  through  galleries  filled  with  old  pictures.  By 
this  means  they  attune  their  eyesight  to  varnished  colours 
hundreds  of  years  old  ; and  then  they  import  their  mis- 
instruction  into  their  written  comments  on  modern  painting. 
At  one  time  they  blamed  John  Constable  because  of  his 
high  lights,  which  they  called  his  “ snows.”  Constable 
replied  that  a few  years  would  give  tone  to  every  part, 
and  already  his  work  is  becoming  too  dark.  To-day  a 
conservative  critic  meets  with  many  painters  who,  at  times, 
annoy  that  fine  old  museum,  his  mind,  and  Brangwyn  is 
among  them.  Let  us  remember,  then,  that  while  modern 
painting  has  been  trying  to  get  nearer  in  its  colour  to  the 
subtleties  and  gradations  of  tone  that  sunlight  produces 
out  of  doors,  a growing  cult  of  the  Old  Masters  has  tried 
to  bring  into  vogue  a liking  for  such  colour  harmonies  as 
time  and  varnish  have  deepened  and  matured. 

This  leads  inevitably  to  much  bad  criticism.  For  a 
hundred  years,  or  rather  more,  the  art  world  has  been 
76 


Characteris  tics 


shaken  by  cyclones  of  controversy,  always  arising  from 
some  realistic  tendency  that  appeared  wrong  to  a talkative 
dogmatism  bred  in  museums.  Some  painters  have  lived 
as  martyrs,  and  many  others  have  been  driven  by  oppo- 
sition from  quiet  study  into  self-conscious  chatter  about 
themselves  and  their  theories.  The  French  Impressionists 
were  very  ill-treated.  It  is  true  they  were  not  men  of 
great  imaginative  genius,  but  they  loved  colour  passion- 
ately, and  there  was  nothing  remarkable  in  their  wish 
to  represent  it  by  means  of  a new  convention  in  the  use 
of  paint.  Their  persecution  was  not  only  a crime  ; it  was 
silly,  and  for  that  no  excuse  can  be  made.  At  the  very 
moment  when  science  was  doing  the  most  marvellous 
things,  the  artistic  world  had  nothing  better  to  do  than  to 
treat  with  cruel  ignorance  the  research-work  of  Manet, 
Monet,  Degas,  and  their  companions  ; and  the  cause  of 
all  the  disturbance  was  merely  in  paint  what  Goethe  had 
done  peacefully  in  words  ; that  is  to  say,  it  was  an  attempt 
to  revise  earlier  fixed  ideas  on  light  and  colour. 

It  is  necessary  for  us  to  consider  here  how  Brangwyn 
stands  in  relation  to  this  phase  of  art,  but  without  re- 
calling one  by  one  the  main  principles  for  which  the 
Impressionists  fought.  Scientifically,  they  were  right 
principles,  but  science  and  art  are  not  near  and  friendly 
neighbours.  It  is  certain,  too,  that  the  science  of  Im- 
pressionism will  soon  be  excelled  by  instantaneous  photo- 
graphy in  colour.  Sisley  and  Monet  are  excellent  as 
mechanics  of  light ; they  are  minor  poets  of  the  sun.  Mr. 
George  Moore  has  fought  a brave  fight  on  behalf  of  the 
French  Impressionists,  but  some  prefer  the  analysis  given 
by  another  of  their  critics,  Camille  Mauclair  : — 


77 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

“There  has  been  a disparity  between  Realism  and  the 
technique  of  Impressionism.  Its  realistic  origin  has  some- 
times made  it  vulgar.  It  has  often  treated  indifferent 
subjects  in  a grand  style,  and  it  has  too  easily  beheld 
life  from  the  anecdotal  side.  It  has  lacked  psychologic 
synthesis  (if  we  except  Degas).  It  has  too  willingly  denied 
all  that  exists  hidden  under  the  apparent  reality  of  the 
universe,  and  has  affected  to  separate  painting  from  the 
ideologic  faculties  which  rule  over  all  art.  Hatred  of 
academic  allegory,  defiance  of  symbolism,  abstraction  and 
romantic  scenes,  have  led  it  to  refuse  to  occupy  itself 
with  a whole  order  of  ideas,  and  it  has  had  the  tendency 
of  making  the  painter  beyond  all  a workman.  It  was 
necessary  at  the  moment  of  its  arrival,  but  it  is  no  longer 
necessary  now,  and  the  painters  understand  this  them- 
selves. Finally,  it  has  too  often  been  superficial  even 
in  obtaining  effects ; it  has  given  way  to  the  wish  to 
surprise  the  eyes,  of  playing  with  tones  merely  for  love 
of  cleverness.  ...  It  has  indulged  in  useless  exaggera- 
tions, faults  of  composition  and  of  harmony,  and  all  this 
cannot  be  denied.”1 

In  plain  words,  the  French  Impressionists  were  brilliant 
and  ardent  students,  not  imaginative  painters  of  a lofty 
rank.  And  yet,  with  all  their  narrowness,  they  achieved 
one  result  which  has  had  a world-wide  influence,  giving 
hints  to  all  painters  of  note  who  have  risen  into  fame 
since  Monet  in  1885  made  his  first  luminous  pictures. 
That  one  result  is  not  light  on  the  surface  of  things 
such  as  the  Old  Masters  produced  with  their  conven- 

1 “The  French  Impressionists,”  by  Camille  Mauclair.  Translated  by  P.  G.  Konody. 
Duckworth. 

7* 


Character  is  tics 


tional  methods ; it  is  sunlight  enveloping  things  on 
all  sides,  bathing  them  in  its  rays,  and  forming  an 
atmosphere  of  enchantment,  that  changes  as  the  sun  in 
its  day’s  journey  goes  from  east  to  west.  Monet  proved 
to  the  world  that  a haystack  is  transfigured  by  the  radi- 
ance of  sunset  as  plainly  as  a lake  of  water,  and  that 
a common  pebble,  lighted  by  the  travelling  sunshine,  is 
a jewel  with  chameleon  tints.  Turner  had  shown  vastly 
more  than  that,  uniting  new  and  exquisite  discoveries 
in  artistic  colour  to  a majesty  of  design  unrivalled  in 
the  art  of  any  country ; but  Monet  and  his  companions 
have  been  more  useful  to  other  painters,  just  because  their 
pictures  as  a rule  were  studies  only,  not  works  of  inven- 
tive imagination.  Their  defects  were  so  evident  that  only 
foolish  youngsters  copied  them,  while  Cottet  and  Sorolla, 
Sargent  and  Brangwyn,  Segantini  and  Michetti,  Lieber- 
mann,  Thaulow,  Lavery,  Harrison,  Zuloaga,  and  Emile 
Claus,  got  an  invaluable  hint  here  and  there.  Nothing 
can  be  more  surprising  than  the  variety  of  individual 
fine  work  that  would  never  have  been  what  it  is  if  the 
French  Impressionists  had  not  dared  to  offend  against 
the  tenets  of  academic  criticism.  Compare  Thdo  van 
Rysselberghe  with  Rusinol,  Brangwyn  with  Besnard, 
Kroyer  with  Guthrie,  Verheyden  with  Dario  de  Regoyos, 
Heymans  with  Boldini,  or  with  Mbnard  and  Le  Sidaner. 

From  the  first,  if  we  set  aside  two  or  three  pictures, 
Brangwyn  sowed  no  wild  oats  in  the  least  like  those 
which  to  this  day  show  in  German  painting  how  harmful 
Impressionism  can  be  when  devotees  have  neither  humour 
nor  individuality  of  judgment.  The  first  thing  that  a 
man  of  genius  learns  when  he  begins  to  search  into  his 

79 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  IF irk 

colour-box  for  more  light  and  colour,  is  to  be  afraid  of 
the  very  things  after  which  he  seeks,  because  the  nearer 
his  art  gets  to  nature  the  more  conscious  he  becomes 
that  his  pigments  are  coarse  and  his  effects  neither  art 
nor  nature.  Lesser  men,  on  the  other  hand,  when  they 
decline  to  work  within  the  limits  of  a school  convention, 
often  get  so  enthralled  by  the  sunlight  that  they  feel  scorn 
for  other  qualities  and  enjoyments.  For  instance,  when 
Sisley  was  at  work  on  a snow-scene,  his  one  aim  was 
to  show  the  effect  of  a certain  light  on  snow,  and  he 
did  not  care  a row  of  pins  for  anything  else.  His  trees 
were  often  badly  indicated,  and  I don’t  remember  any 
picture  of  his  in  the  least  charmed  with  human  life  and 
labour.  Light  and  colour  were  his  only  actors.  And 
this  applies  also  to  the  bulk  of  Monet’s  work.  Now  this 
passion  for  light  goes  too  far ; it  is  a sort  of  drunkenness, 
and  painters  have  something  better  to  do  than  to  over- 
excite their  optic  nerves. 

Brangwyn  understood  this  from  the  first,  for  he  made  no 
experiments  in  light  and  colour  unassociated  with  difficult 
problems  of  design  and  character-painting.  It  was  fortu- 
nate that  he  chose  this  different  road.  Had  he  trained 
himself  to  be  content  with  sketches  and  notes,  he  would 
have  feared  the  risk  of  trying  to  pass  from  rapid  impres- 
sion into  a completed  picture ; like  many  a clever  student 
who  paints  well  in  a life-class  and  fails  hopelessly  in  a 
commissioned  portrait.  Brangwyn,  then,  has  never  looked 
upon  his  work  as  light  and  colour  only,  but  as  colour 
and  light  in  their  relation  to  other  problems  of  art ; and 
he  believes,  quite  justly,  that  a painting  should  always 
look  well  and  be  attractive  as  a black  and  white.  Not 
80 


THE  WINDMILL,  DIXMUDE. 
Reproduced  from  an  Original  Etching . 


Characteristics 


only  ought  it  to  be  distinctive  in  its  form,  in  its  design, 
but  its  presentation  of  life  and  character  needs  dramatic 
sensibility.  In  other  words,  a painter  should  be  emo- 
tional in  many  ways  outside  his  passion  for  subtleties 
of  atmosphere. 

Take  the  question  of  landscape-painting  and  consider 
it  largely,  keeping  in  mind  any  works  of  Brangwyn  that 
you  know  well,  whether  Eastern  subjects,  or  glimpses  of 
the  Thames  through  wreathing  smoke,  or  a romance  of 
old  houses  felt  with  an  emotion  akin  to  that  in  Piranesi 
and  Mdryon.  Landscapes  of  this  kind  are  not  only 
human  ; they  have  their  own  literature,  inasmuch  as  they 
compel  us  to  feel  and  think,  to  pass  from  their  value  as 
things  observed  to  their  poetry  as  historic  backgrounds 
to  the  drama  of  human  life.  Mery  on  has  such  a feeling 
for  old  architecture  that  some  of  his  etched  plates  are 
quite  uncanny  with  awe  and  pathos,  as  if  bygone  genera- 
tions haunt  ancient  homes  in  presences  unseen,  that 
Meryon  enables  us  to  feel.  This  comes  from  a great, 
instinctive  liking  for  the  history  suggested  by  the  derelicts 
of  time;  and  Brangwyn  has  shown  the  same  rare  quality 
in  landscapes  of  several  kinds,  ranging  from  old  houses 
at  Hammersmith  to  stranded  men-of-war,  and  from  a 
storm  beating  over  tall  trees  along  a road  to  a great 
windmill  standing  out,  huge  and  gaunt,  against  a wind- 
blown sky  full  of  clouds.  To  paint  in  this  way  is  to 
realise  that  landscape  belongs  to  man  and  to  human 
history,  and  owes  its  importance  in  art  to  that  fact 
mainly,  if  not  entirely. 

This  was  understood  by  the  old  painters  who  com- 
posed classic  landscapes,  for  they  never  failed  to  touch 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

the  educated  mind  of  their  times  by  introducing  ruined 
temples,  broken  columns,  and  figures  from  ancient  poetry 
and  mythology,  so  that  their  work  might  awaken  memories 
and  associations.  Turner  passed  through  this  old  school 
into  a Wordsworthian  mood  of  style,  as  in  the  “ Frosty 
Morning,”  and  Wordsworth  himself  was  preceded  by 
the  sweet  serene  manliness  of  Gainsborough’s  rustic  art. 
“There  is  a charm,”  says  Allan  Cunningham,  “about 
the  children  running  wild  in  the  landscapes  of  Gains- 
borough, which  is  more  deeply  felt  by  comparing  them 
with  those  of  Reynolds.  The  children  of  Sir  Joshua  are 
indeed  beautiful  creatures,  free,  artless,  and  lovely ; but 
they  seem  all  to  have  been  nursed  on  velvet  laps,  and 
fed  with  golden  spoons.  There  is  a rustic  grace,  an 
untrained  wildness  about  the  children  of  the  other,  which 
speak  of  the  country  and  of  neglected  toilets.  They  are 
the  offspring  of  Nature,  running  free  among  woods  as 
wild  as  themselves.”  It  is  all  quite  true ; and  do  you 
suppose  that  Gainsborough  could  have  done  that  with 
equal  success  if  his  eyes  and  thoughts  had  been  like 
Monet’s,  or  Sisley’s,  for  ever  seeking  for  minute  grada- 
tions of  colour  under  the  influence  of  ever-changing 
light  ? 

Yes,  too  much  attention  may  be  given  to  that  part  of 
the  daily  inspiration  that  painters  take  from  things  seen. 
Find  your  own  gamut  of  colour  as  soon  as  you  can, 
and  then  use  it  as  a medium  in  which  to  unify  all  the 
other  emotional  qualities  that  imaginative  work  needs. 
Brangwyn  has  followed  that  method,  freeing  himself  from 
all  hypersensitive  cravings  for  more  light  and  colour 
than  his  paint  will  give  him  without  injury  to  his  subject. 


Characteristics 


Even  in  his  “Rajah’s  Birthday,”1  where  his  impression 
of  Indian  sunlight  at  midday  is  not  only  radiant  but 
quite  near  to  the  spectator,  transfiguring  objects  in  the 
foreground,  his  gamut  of  colour  is  unstrained,  and  his 
handling  everywhere  is  free,  ample,  and  joyous.  There 
is  not  a trace  of  tired  manipulation.  The  blaze  of  light 
being  intense,  your  eyes  do  not  at  first  resolve  the  plots 
of  colour  into  the  merry  scene  which  they  represent ; but 
presently  the  many-tinted  figures  in  the  crowd,  emerging 
one  by  one  from  the  sunshine,  begin  to  jostle  around  the 
great  elephants ; and  you  see  that  the  noble  animals, 
bedecked  like  houris,  have  a half-humorous  look  in  their 
eyes,  that  elephants  of  state  assume  when  little  human 
creatures  amuse  themselves  in  a noisy  and  feeble  way. 
That  is  how  a mammoth  must  have  looked  if  he  ever 
stooped  from  his  dignity  and  allowed  himself  to  work 
for  the  diminutive  hairy  men  who  made  their  homes  in 
caves.  A mammoth  might  have  done  that  as  a sort  of 
joke,  just  as  elephants  do,  apparently. 

I saw  “A  Rajah’s  Birthday”  this  year  at  the  White- 
chapel Art  Gallery,  where  it  hung  in  company  with  many 
good  pictures  that  represented  the  history  of  British  art 
during  the  last  twenty  years  ; and  its  triumph  was  very 
remarkable.  It  was  alive,  while  all  the  other  works  were 
paint  and  skill  more  or  less  animated.  To  pass  from 
canvas  to  canvas  noticing  the  qualities  of  each,  and  see- 
ing their  varieties  of  expert  skill,  was  gentle  exercise  on 

1 The  reproduction  of  “A  Rajah’s  Birthday”  given  in  this  book  shows  a large 
picture  in  a small  plate.  This  means,  inevitably,  a great  loss  of  scale,  and  much  sun- 
light has  vanished  from  the  colour.  Chromatic  processes  get  their  best  results  from 
dark  pictures,  because  the  yellow  block,  so  important  in  sunny  effects,  is  always  the 
most  defective  and  troublesome. 


83 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

a rare  hot  day,  and  quite  entertaining.  But  “A  Rajah’s 
Birthday  ” had  a very  different  effect.  It  was  a great 
surprise.  How  had  such  life  and  colour  been  achieved? 
How  had  the  East  been  summoned  to  Whitechapel? 
Why  should  paint  have  organic  life  in  this  one  picture 
only?  Across  the  hall  was  a fine  canvas  by  the  late  Mr. 
C.  W.  Furse ; it  represented  a great  team  of  cart-horses 
splashed  with  sunlight,  and  pulling  with  all  their  might 
at  a low  wagon  laden  with  timber.  They  moved  over 
uneven  ground,  and  behind  them  a bank  of  yellow  sand 
glittered  with  spangled  lights  and  shadows.  I turned 
from  this  picture  to  Brangwyn’s,  again  and  again,  mar- 
velling at  the  difference  between  them.  They  might 
represent  British  art  anywhere  and  win  admiration.  But 
Furse,  despite  his  great  talent,  despite  his  keen  observa- 
tion, despite  his  subtleness  of  handling,  had  accomplished 
much  less  than  Brangwyn,  though  Brangwyn  had  worked 
at  a heat  without  pausing  to  consider  whether  this  or 
that  detail  might  be  considered  unintelligible.  For  one 
thing,  Furse  had  missed  truth  of  impression  in  the  most 
essential  part  of  his  subject.  The  wheels  of  his  wagon 
were  wrong  in  weight  and  strength ; they  could  not 
possibly  bear  the  immense  strain  put  upon  them  by  four 
powerful  horses  hauling  a dead  weight  of  timber  along  a 
gully  of  sand.  And  no  sooner  did  this  mistake  become 
evident,  than  the  whole  picture  became  unsteady  on  those 
ill-felt  wheels.  On  the  other  hand,  Brangwyn’s  impres- 
sionism was  balanced  and  complete.  It  had  the  right 
proportion  of  action  and  quietness ; and  there  was  no 
break  in  the  nervous  energy  of  its  handling,  though  some 
parts  are  more  felicitous  than  others. 

84 


THE  RAJAHS  BIRTHDAY 


Characteristics 


Although  I have  spoken  of  “ A Rajah’s  Birthday  ” as 
impressionism.  I do  not  mean  any  such  impressionism 
as  the  French  experimentalists  would  have  given.  Far 
from  that.  Brangwyn’s  colour  and  technique  are  not 
outside  a direct  descent  from  the  boldest  painters  of  the 
Renaissance.1  Their  originality  continues  a tradition  of 
virile  and  direct  skill  ; and  it  does  not  try  to  make  real 
all  the  effects  of  full  sunlight.  For  instance,  when  rays 
of  sunshine  are  intensely  ardent,  the  objects  around 
which  they  play  seem  to  lose  much  of  their  solidity, 
becoming  variously  unsubstantial ; and  Monet  is  praised 
by  Camille  Mauclair  because  his  midday  scenes  show 
how  all  material  silhouettes — in  trees,  in  rocks,  in  hay- 
ricks— are  annihilated,  volatilised  by  the  fiery  vibration 
of  the  dust  of  sunlight,  so  that  a beholder  gets  really 
blinded,  just  as  he  would  in  actual  sunlight.  “Some- 
times even  there  are  no  more  shadows  at  all,  nothing 
that  could  serve  to  indicate  the  values  and  to  create  con- 
trasts of  colour.  Everything  is  light,  and  the  painter 
seems  easily  to  overcome  these  terrible  difficulties,  lights 
upon  lights,  thanks  to  a gift  of  marvellous  subtlety  of 
vision.”  Yes ; but  there  is  another  side  to  this  matter. 
Monet’s  colour,  after  a few  years  of  maturing,  is  not 
more  luminous  than  Brangwyn’s,  while  his  peculiar 
brushwork  has  often  a texture  rather  like  those  pictures 
in  tinted  wools  that  ladies  worked  at  the  end  of  the 
eighteenth  century.  Trees,  earth,  water,  skies,  archi- 
tecture, have  pretty  much  the  same  weight  and  volume, 
though  the  eyes  always  feel  that  however  fiercely  the 
sun  pours  down,  buildings  must  have  more  solidity 

1 Ojetti,  the  great  Italian  critic,  is  very  urgent  on  this  point. 


85 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JVork 

than  their  waving  flags,  and  tree-trunks  greater  bulk  than 
their  massed  but  quivering  foliage.  There  are  values  of 
weight  and  substance  as  well  as  values  of  tone  and  tint, 
and  art  can  never  afford  to  pass  them  by  as  non-existent. 

We  see,  then,  that  there  are  two  forms  of  impression- 
ism, one  having  for  its  aim  the  realisation  of  atmosphere, 
and  the  other  showing  that  art  is  concerned  with  life  in 
all  its  manifestations,  and  with  substance  in  all  its 
varieties  and  gradations.  “ A Rajah’s  Birthday  ” is  in 
the  open  air  and  its  colour  has  beauty  and  brilliance,  but 
the  sunlight  does  not  prevent  us  from  seeing  that  ele- 
phants are  ponderous,  that  a bustling  crowd  moves,  and 
that  banners  are  heavier  than  turbans  and  dress  materials. 

Still,  a biographer  has  no  right  to  be  one-sided,  and  I 
must  mention  the  fact  that  some  critics  agree  that  “A 
Rajah’s  Birthday  ” is  too  bright  with  sunlight,  and  if  they 
find  it  so,  then  for  them  it  is  too  bright.  While  I looked 
at  this  picture  in  the  Whitechapel  Gallery,  an  artist  came 
up  with  a lady,  and  I overheard  an  exchange  of  opinion, 
running  something  like  this: 

Artist.  “ Great  Scot ! Magnificent!  Ripping!  Only 
one  man  could  do  that.  Lord,  how  thin  and  useless  my 
own  work  seems  by  comparison.  Hang  it ! ” 

Lady.  “ I’m  beginning  to  see  something  after  screw- 
ing up  my  eyes.  This  picture  needs  a big  parasol.  But 
I like  those  elephants  now  I begin  to  see  them.  Yes, 

and  that  crowd  of  lively  figures  grows  into  distinctness. 
Still,  why  paint  movement  and  fun  if  they  are  not  to  be 
seen  at  once  ? I hate  full  sunlight  out  of  doors — blink  at 
it  like  an  owl ; and  this  picture  bothered  my  eyes  at  first.” 
Points  of  view  are  always  interesting,  and  a good 
86 


Characteris  tics 


picture  creates  many.  Ruskin  argued  very  well  that  al- 
though the  right  of  being  obscure  is  not  one  to  be  lightly 
claimed,  yet  all  distinct  drawing  must  be  bad  drawing, 
and  nothing  can  be  right  till  it  is  unintelligible.  “ Ex- 
cellence of  the  highest  kind,  without  obscurity,  cannot 
exist.”  Why  a critic  should  wish  to  see  everything  all 
in  one  glance  I do  not  know,  but  you  must  have  noticed 
that  in  art-criticism  Englishmen  are  fond  of  two  phrases 
— “too  obscure"  and  “too  obvious.”  Let  a painter  miss 
one  of  these  verdicts,  and  behold  ! the  other  awaits  him. 

It  is  certainly  possible  for  an  artist  to  be  too  obscure  ; 
he  may  forget  that  his  own  vision  adds  distinctness  to 
hinted  forms,  the  eyes  seeing  what  the  mind  wants  them 
to  see.  This  occurred  in  a very  remarkable  way  when 
Lombroso  found  much  evidence  of  criminality  in  photo- 
graphs of  very  reputable  Parisian  market-women,  these 
photographs  having  been  sent  to  him  by  mistake  for  por- 
traits of  criminals.  Plainly,  then,  it  is  necessary  for  all 
craftsmen  to  revise  their  own  impressions  of  the  work 
they  do,  so  as  to  be  sure  that  what  is  distinct  to  them 
will  be  sufficiently  clear  to  onlookers  also  ; and  this  ap- 
plies above  all  to  painters  of  great  force,  who  put  so  much 
energy  into  their  swift  technique  that  they  sometimes 
fear  to  change  a defect  lest  they  should  add  a patch  to  a 
homogeneous  bit  of  painting.  Then  the  mind  begins  to 
work,  and  soon  the  defect  is  no  longer  noticed  by  obedient 
eyes.  I believe  that  Brangwyn  has  stumbled  into  this 
pitfall  on  two  or  three  occasions,  like  every  other  rapid 
master  of  the  brush  ; but  years  bring  patience,  and  he 
finds  already  that  he  studies  with  enjoyment  many  things 
which  would  have  fretted  him  a few  years  ago. 


87 


CHAPTER  VI 


LIGHT  AND  COLOUR — continued 

ONE  thing  in  “A  Rajah’s  Birthday”  is  par- 
ticularly interesting ; it  is  the  fact  that  light 
and  glowing  colour  are  found  in  it  together 
— not  by  any  means  a common  thing  in 
pictures.  One  might  suppose  that  because  every  tint 
in  nature  is  simply  an  irradiation  of  light,  composed  of 
the  same  elements  as  the  sun’s  rays,  a sensation  of 
luminous  air  would  be  attained  inevitably  in  paint  by 
truthful  values,  or  by  using  the  seven  tints  of  the 
spectrum  in  spots  of  colour  juxtaposed,  leaving  their 
individual  rays  of  light  to  blend  when  we  look  towards 
them  at  a certain  distance  ; and  yet,  somehow,  anyhow, 
that  blending  often  produces  sunny  colour  without  the 
spaciousness  of  air.  In  other  words,  light  and  colour 
very  often  are  antagonistic  to  each  other  in  painting. 
When  you  attain  both  at  the  same  time,  it  is  an 
inspiration,  like  music. 

This  point  the  French  Impressionists  often  forgot. 
When  we  learn  from  their  principles  that  atmosphere 
is  the  real  subject  of  a picture,  since  everything  repre- 
sented upon  it  exists  only  through  its  medium ; when 
we  hear  from  Manet  that  colour  is  light,  and  light  the 
principal  “ person  ” in  a painting,  we  remember  pictures 
of  theirs  in  which  there  is  considerably  less  light  than 
88 


Light  and  Colour 

we  find  in  a clear  sky  by  Cuyp,  in  the  palest  landscape 
by  Corot,  or  in  a tinted  water-colour  by  Cozens.  For 
it  is  genius  acting  impulsively,  not  reason  working 
scientifically,  that  permeates  paint  with  wind-blown  air 
or  with  sunned  atmosphere.  Art  pours  air  with  sun- 
shine into  many  a monochrome,  then  she  declines  to  receive 
it  when  you  offer  her,  orchestrated,  the  seven  tints  of 
the  spectrum.  You  rub  in  a sky  or  a background, 
taking  no  trouble  at  all,  and  it  is  full  of  light,  of  air  ; 
next  day  you  try  to  paint  it,  and  your  work  looks  as 

hard  as  lead  or  as  uninviting  as  cotton-wool.  These 

matters  are  beyond  explanation  ; but  we  may  take  it  as 
an  axiom  that  intense  light  in  painting  is  apt  to  look  air- 
less. Do  you  not  feel  that  in  Norwegian  pictures,  when 

your  eyes  ache  for  some  relief  from  the  unmysterious 
gleaming  of  far-off  waters  and  hills?  And  then,  as  to 
the  action  of  brilliant  sunshine,  as  on  red  and  white  in 
the  middle  distance,  it  brings  objects  forward  out  of 
their  plane,  so  that  they  appear  much  nearer  to  us  ; and 
the  closer  those  objects  are  to  our  eyes,  the  more  their 
radiance  dominates  all  attention.  That  is  why  art  lowers 
their  key  and  gets  fresh  air  in  subtle  ways  that  no 
painter  of  genius  can  ever  explain.  Monet’s  work  looks 
rather  like  a recipe,  while  a first-rate  Brangwyn  has  the 
unsought  charm  of  an  improvisation. 

Further,  the  idea  that  painters  borrow  from  nature 
their  finer  harmonies  of  colour  is  frequently  quite  wrong. 
Colour  very  often  comes  to  them  from  that  higher  con- 
sciousness that  surprises  the  ordinary  brain-consciousness 
with  intuitions,  premonitions,  and  sudden  day-dreams. 
Sir  Oliver  Lodge  now  regards  it  as  definitely  proved 
m 89 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  TVork 

that  our  consciousness  is  much  larger  than  the  con- 
sciousness that  manifests  itself  through  the  brain  ; that 
outside  and  beyond  what  we  know  normally  as  con- 
sciousness there  exists  a great  held  to  which  no  name 
except  the  name  of  consciousness  can  be  given,  because 
we  get  from  it  certain  emotions — certain  impulses,  lumi- 
nous ideas,  and  quick  warnings — that  rule  us  despite  all 
the  logic  of  ordinary  and  normal  experience.  Genius 
when  at  work  brings  in  hashes  from  that  other  con- 
sciousness many  things  that  vanish  from  memory  unless 
they  hnd  immediate  interpretation  into  some  form  of 
art ; and  we  may  be  sure  that  harmonies  of  colour,  like 
other  poetic  elements,  enter  into  inspired  workmanship 
of  genius.  Milton  says  nobly  that  when  a poet,  at  the 
command  of  God,  takes  a trumpet  to  blow  a dolorous 
or  thrilling  blast,  it  rests  not  with  his  will  what  he 
shall  say,  or  what  he  shall  conceal.  And  this  being  so, 
there  are  evident  limits  to  realism  in  all  creative  arts. 

I see  in  a good  many  criticisms  that  Brangwyn  is  a 
realist  in  colour,  yet  he  could  not  give  you  any  account 
of  his  work  as  a colourist,  other  than  this — that  such 
and  such  effects  came  of  their  own  accord,  without  any 
conscious  reasoning  on  his  part.  So,  too,  with  all 
genuine  painters.  Turner  was  marvellous  in  his  in- 
spirations of  what  one  may  call  chromo-spiritualism, 
though  Ruskin  fancied  that  his  friend  had  nature  always 
before  his  mind’s  eye.  Turner,  of  course,  being  a won- 
derful poet  in  his  art,  transcended  nature  with  his  other- 
worldliness. His  finest  effects  were  unpremeditated. 

There  is,  though,  in  Brangwyn’s  case,  as  in  Turner’s, 
one  point  that  belongs  more  or  less  to  the  research  of 
90 


Light  and  Colour 

art — namely,  his  studies  from  the  first  have  united  oil- 
painting  and  water-colour,  and  the  translucent  brilliance 
of  the  latter  medium  has  influenced  his  use  of  oil- 
pigments.  Consider  this  point  for  a moment.  If  you 
put  water-colour  drawings  against  the  light,  in  some 
dim  corner  of  your  room,  you  will  find  that  they  are 
still  full  of  brilliance,  the  cream-white  of  the  paper 
shining  through  each  wash  of  colour.  An  oil-picture 
in  the  same  position  would  look  heavy,  dull,  and  lifeless. 
Now,  many  of  our  English  painters — from  Gainsborough 
and  Wilson  to  Turner,  Bonington,  Constable,  De  Wint, 
Cox,  and  J.  S.  Cotman — have  profited  by  this  difference 
between  oils  and  water-colours.  Not  only  did  they 
work  in  both  mediums,  but  to  some  extent  they  tried, 
consciously  or  unconsciously,  to  get  in  oils  something 
of  the  translucent  and  beautiful  light  that  water-colours 
gave  on  cream-tinted  paper.  Turner  was  particularly 
scornful  of  the  heaviness  peculiar  to  oiled  pigments. 
During  his  first  period,  when  his  colour  was  as  dark 
as  Daniell’s  or  De  Loutherbourg’s,  he  sprinkled  sand 
over  a prepared  canvas,  then  let  it  dry  hard  ; and  upon 
this  gritty  ground  he  painted  his  shadows  in  transparent 
tints,  so  that  the  particles  of  sand  might  shine  through 
like  little  lamps,  giving  a sparkle  akin  to  that  of  textured 
paper  under  washes  of  watered  pigment.  From  this 
trick  he  passed  into  polychrome  effects  ever  higher  and 
higher  in  key,  substituting  for  the  subdued  chiaroscuro 
of  all  early  landscape  a balanced  diminution  of  opposi- 
tion throughout  the  scale,  and  trying  to  take  the  lowest 
portion  of  the  scale  truly,  and  merging  the  upper  part 
in  high  light.  It  was  Turner  water-colour  in  oil-paint. 

9i 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

I shall  speak  in  a later  chapter  of  Brangwyn’s  water- 
colours, but  here  is  the  place  to  mention  the  effect  which 
they  have  had  on  the  quality  of  his  paint  in  oils.  It  is  a 
fact  that  no  artist  can  experiment  in  water-colour  without 
acquiring  a delicacy  of  perception  for  the  finer  niceties 
of  tint  and  tone,  that  prevents  him  from  being  heavy  and 
dull  in  the  more  virile  medium  of  oil  pigments.  This 
alone  is  enough  to  explain  why  British  landscapes  at  their 
best  are  better  than  any  similar  work  by  foreign  artists. 
Contrast  a first-rate  De  Wint  in  oil  with  a Thdodore 
Rousseau,  choosing  by  each  a picture  of  dark  trees 
sketched  on  a cloudy  day,  and  you  will  find  that  De 
Wint  is  the  purer  colourist.  Like  Brangwyn,  he  puts 
an  airy,  inward  life  into  masses  of  the  darkest  greens, 
and  his  handling  has  a featherweight  strong  touch,  sur- 
prisingly light  and  easy  and  spontaneous.  De  Wint  has 
outlived  all  the  landscape  men  of  his  time  who  scorned 
water-colour.  Holland,  too,  like  Muller,  was  a worker  in 
both  mediums  ; and  so  was  J.  F.  Lewis. 

To  water-colour  Brangwyn  owes  a part  of  his  equip- 
ment as  a painter,  and,  curiously  enough,  the  qualities 
that  water-colour  encourages  are  very  akin  to  those  that 
the  great  Venetians  loved  and  obtained.  Reynolds,  after 
years  of  close  research  into  the  harmonies  of  Venetian 
painting,  gave  it  as  a general  principle  that  the  masses 
of  light  in  a picture  must  be  of  a warm  mellow  tint, 
yellow,  red,  or  cream-white,  and  that  all  cold  colours — 
blues,  greys,  and  greens — must  be  kept  out  of  these  warm 
masses,  and  be  used  only  to  support  them  and  to  set  them 
off.  For  this  purpose,  he  said,  a small  proportion  of  cold 
colours  will  be  sufficient.  “ Let  this  conduct  be  reversed ; 

92 


Light  and  Colour 

let  the  light  be  cold  and  the  surrounding  colours  warm, 
as  we  often  see  in  the  works  of  Roman  and  Florentine 
painters,  and  it  will  be  outside  the  power  of  art,  even 
in  the  hands  of  Rubens  and  Titian  to  make  a picture 
splendid  and  harmonious.”  There  is  some  exaggeration 
here,  for  Reynolds  speaks  to  young  students ; he  wants 
to  underline  the  danger  of  trying  to  prove  that  his 
rule  is  not  without  exceptions.  It  may  be  called  a 
rule,  I think,  because  it  is  illustrated  in  the  work  of  all 
colourists.  Let  us  then  see  how  it  appears  in  a picture 
by  Brangwyn. 

We  will  choose  from  his  colour  exercises,  rapid  sketches 
brushed  off  usually  in  a day,  sometimes  in  two  or  three 
sittings,  each  subject  a complete  orchestration,  and  often 
with  a crowd  of  figures  in  action,  like  “ The  Return  of 
the  Sacred  Carpet  from  Mecca.”  This  brilliant  and  joyous 
sketch  being  too  animated  for  description,  we  will  take 
the  Rabelaisian  fantasy  called  “ Mars  and  Venus,”  of  which 
a colour-print  is  given  here  in  little.  It  is  a jeu  d'esprit 
on  a classic  fable,  and  note  the  composition  and  its  colour 
— this  last,  by  the  way,  being  richer  in  the  original  sketch, 
of  course.  The  contrasts  between  cold  tints  and  warm 
are  exceedingly  good : they  sing , they  have  voices  that 
foil  each  other  in  interchanging  effects.  That  blue  in  the 
centre,  set  against  yellow  drapery  in  one  place,  and  else- 
where against  orange  and  yellow  fruit  in  an  old  brass 
dish,  is  the  coldest  tint  in  the  whole  picture.  Orange 
and  yellow,  this  time  enlivened  by  deep  ruby  red,  are 
repeated  in  the  figure  behind  Mars,  a figure  holding  a 
dark  vase  against  the  white  shirt  worn  by  that  warrior, 
who  jokes  as  he  trifles  with  an  orange.  I wish  the 

93 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

colour-print  could  give  the  full  variety  of  flesh  tints, 
with  their  warm  health  set  off  by  chill  reflected  lights ; 
but  no  discord  appears  in  this  mechanical  reproduction, 
that  takes  some  life  from  every  part.  Note  particularly 
the  fundamental  opposition  between  yellow  and  black — 
a thing  loved  by  painters  so  different  in  all  respects  as 
Turner  and  Rubens ; and  if  you  add  cold  grey  to  any 
warm  tint  in  this  sketch — to  the  yellow  or  the  orange 
hues,  or  to  the  notes  of  red — you  will  understand  what 
Reynolds  meant. 

Again,  it  was  worth  while  to  paint  this  fantasy  if  for 
no  other  purpose  than  to  show  with  ease  the  pulsation 
of  reflected  light  in  the  jeering  face  of  Mars.  Brangwyn’s 
treatment  of  reflected  light  is  always  vital,  and  we  know 
that  modern  painting  differs  from  elder  schools  in  its 
more  conscious  liking  for  luminous  reflections  in  shadows, 
their  tremulous  gradations  and  their  contrasts  between 
cold  and  warm  hues.  Ruskin  never  liked  this  innova- 
tion, declaring  that  students — and  many  advanced  masters 
also — filled  a shadow  with  so  much  reflection  that  it 
looked  as  if  some  one  had  been  walking  around  the 
object  with  a candle.  For  all  that,  reflected  light  is 
enchanted  light ; it  makes  ugliness  beautiful,  it  sends 
colour  to  play  in  a fairyland  of  shades.  Who  does  not 
know  its  bewitching  playfulness  when  it  darts  through 
deep  shadows  like  sudden  hope  flashing  through  minds 
darkened  by  grief?  Yet  Ruskin  went  so  far  as  to  believe 
that  the  Mediterranean  coast  lacked  beauty  because  the 
radiance  of  reflected  sunshine  permeated  everywhere  and 
made  each  effect  “too  pale.”  As  for  quite  modern  art, 
that  studies  fire  at  noon,  and  is  dazzled  by  the  flashes 
94 


Light  and  Colour 

of  day,  it  did  not  exist  for  Ruskin,  as  Mrs.  Meynell 
points  out  in  her  thoughtful  and  admirable  study.1 

Brangwyn,  in  another  sketch,  illustrated  here,  studies 
reflected  light  under  unusual  difficulties.  The  subject 
represents  a by-street  shop  of  household  metal-work  in 
France.  The  principal  figure  is  a consumptive-looking 
down-at-heel  in  a brilliant  green  coat  which  is  much  too 
large  for  him.  Negligently,  his  back  towards  us,  he  holds 
a big  copper  jug  in  his  right  hand,  and  with  a sort  of 
cowering  half-heartedness,  his  head  bent,  he  listens  to 
directions  from  his  master  and  mistress.  In  a moment 
or  two  he  will  start  off  on  his  journey  to  some  customer, 
and  then  stop  for  a glass  at  the  nearest  cabaret.  There 
is  a fragment  of  human  wreckage  inside  that  green  coat. 
And  the  master  of  the  shop  is  equally  typical  in  another 
way.  Light  plays  around  his  keen  face ; with  a tender- 
ness peculiar  to  humble  foreign  craftsmen — it  is  rarely 
seen  in  England — he  holds  in  both  hands  a small  coffee- 
pot recently  finished ; and  one  cannot  imagine  him  in 
any  other  clothes  except  his  old  white  apron,  his  blue 
trousers,  the  bickering  sabots,  and  that  well-worn  cap, 
which  has  pressed  down  his  ears  into  a fixed  position  of 
listening  expectation.  This  fellow  is  a working  crafts- 
man all  the  year  round,  all  day  long ; and  perhaps  he 
sleeps  in  his  cap  through  fear  of  draughts  from  a 
window  that  is  never  opened.  His  good  wife,  neat  in 
white  and  rose,  stands  almost  in  shadow,  behind  the 
copper  and  brass  vessels ; and  other  persons  are  seen 
beyond  her,  against  a wall  dappled  with  sunshine.  It 
is  a large  picture,  and  see  the  skill  with  which  that 

1 “John  Ruskin,”  pp.  204-206.  By  Mrs.  Meynell. 

95 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IF  or k 

bright  green  coat  is  worked  into  a difficult  colour 
scheme.  As  to  the  still-life,  the  metal  pots  and  pans, 
their  handling  could  not  well  be  bettered,  but  a colour- 
print  cannot  give  their  sparkle  and  reflected  lights. 

In  other  recent  sketch-pictures  character  and  intricate 
illumination  are  studied  together.  There  is  one  of  “ Card 
Players”  in  a room.  The  setting  is  novel  and  good. 
Under  a sort  of  counter  draped  with  cloth  a woman  and 
a man  sit  in  huddled  attitudes  absorbed  in  a game  of 
cards ; above  them,  lying  at  full  length  on  the  counter, 
is  a boy,  who  glances  humorously  at  the  man’s  cards, 
while  a lad  below,  finger  on  lip,  whispers  advice  to  the 
female  gambler,  though  she  looks  quite  sharp  enough 
to  protect  her  interests  by  unfair  means.  Near  the  boy 
is  another  onlooker,  a veteran  gamester  with  round  eyes 
and  a queer  oval  face  having  the  alertness  of  a jack- 
daw. The  chiaroscuro  is  difficult,  deep  shadows  giving 
their  own  varying  degrees  of  light  to  recesses  of  different 
depths.  The  highest  brilliance  shines  from  a white 
waistcoat  worn  by  the  male  card-player,  a part  of  whose 
naked  back  is  seen  against  it.  Every  part  is  brushed  in 
with  joyous  verve,  and  the  shadows  will  not  deepen  with 
age  into  a dark  airlessness,  as  may  happen  to  a good  many 
modern  Dutch  pictures. 

By  way  of  contrast  I will  mention  now  a large  and 
elaborate  picture  recently  bought  for  the  Johannesburg  Art 
Gallery.  It  was  exhibited  at  the  Academy  in  1908;  it  has 
for  its  subject  “The  Return  from  the  Promised  Land.” 
On  a cloudy  day  of  intense  heat  the  spies  with  their 
trophies  of  fruit  pass  over  the  crest  of  a gentle  slope  and 
begin  to  go  down  hill.  Great  bunches  of  grapes,  some 
96 


THK  CARD  PLAYERS 


Light  and  Colour 

yellow  and  others  purple,  swing  from  a pole  carried  by 
several  of  the  men,  each  one  of  whom  bears  the  weight 
in  a different  manner,  and  shows  in  his  attitude  what  sort 
of  workman  he  is.  Every  movement  is  excellent ; the  chill 
reflected  lights,  bluey  and  sudden,  are  managed  with  a 
brave  judgment ; and  there  is  a certain  large  air  of  romance 
in  the  swing  and  verve  of  these  turbaned  bearers  of  good 
news.  The  colour-print  gives  all  that  a mechanical  repro- 
duction can  give,  and  it  is  more  than  the  best  line- 
engravings  ever  gave.  Note  the  hands,  how  vital  they 
are,  as  in  that  unhappy  man  behind  the  throng  who  fears 
that  the  pot  balanced  on  his  head  will  be  upset  by  some 
jostled  movement  among  the  grape-bearers.  That  plot  of 
trees  on  the  left,  forming  a background  interest  with  a note 
of  dark  colour,  is  happy  in  design  ; and  away  on  our  right, 
under  the  hot  grey  sky,  far  beyond  the  main  subject,  is 
a glimpse  of  the  Promised  Land.  There  are  pleasant, 
rhythmic  contrasts  between  quietness  and  movement.  A 
small  boy  leads  the  way  thoughtfully,  with  a stout 
grumbler  to  keep  him  company ; this  pretty  idea  sets  off 
the  strained  effort  of  each  weight-bearer. 

The  treatment  of  values  in  this  difficult  picture  is  in 
accordance  with  Brangwyn’s  method  of  giving  only  those 
relations  that  are  essential,  merging  the  others  into  masses; 
and  the  effect  of  this,  excellent  to-day,  will  be  better  still 
ten  years  hence,  for  a binding  tone  will  be  given  by  the 
daily  alembic  of  air  acting  on  good,  unfidgeted  paint. 

Values  in  paint  do  not  always  bear  the  test  of  years. 
They  don’t  in  the  Caillebotte  collection  of  French  Im- 
pressionists. Here,  from  most  of  the  pictures,  you  may 
learn  that  a great  deal  of  attention  may  be  given  to 
n 97 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JVork 

subtleties  of  value  that  disappear  when  pigments  darken 
a little  and  get  hard  as  stones.  It  is  easy  to  be  deceived 
by  the  luscious  and  translucent  sparkle  of  wet  pigment  out 
of  doors.  The  Caillebotte  pictures  are  dead  in  their  values 
when  compared  with  a water-colour  by  any  English  master, 
and  I venture  to  argue  from  this  fact  that  the  French 
Impressionists  tried  to  do  overmuch  in  their  minute 
relations  of  colour,  forgetting  that  light  and  air  and  heat 
act  and  react  on  finished  oil-painting  day  after  day 
through  the  year,  toning  their  pale  values  and  deepening 
the  half-tones  and  shades.  This  tells  with  the  greatest 
disadvantage  on  those  pictures  which  are  strung  up  into 
high  keys — light  upon  light,  in  values  subtly  orchestrated 
into  intricate  harmonies.  Let  time  add  a minute  but 
uneven  toning  to  this  delicate  colour-craft,  and  the  first 
charm  may  disappear  altogether.  I cannot  believe,  for 
instance,  that  Manet  was  so  blind  to  the  effect  of  bad, 
airless  greens  that  his  painting  of  “ The  Balcony  ” when 
newly  finished  had  shutters  and  iron-railings  as  jarringly 
out  of  tone  as  they  are  now.  Certain  values  have  been 
wiped  out  by  the  years,  and  to-day  those  green  railings 
and  shutters  are  vulgar  discords.  Painters  need  a 
prophetic  vision  : they  must  see  into  the  future  and  fore- 
know the  action  of  daylight  on  pigments. 

Yet  very  few  persons  notice  these  things.  Talkers  on 
art  often  speak  of  values  as  if  values  were  as  easy  to  prove 
or  disprove  as  definite  sums  in  arithmetic.  “ These  values 
are  true,”  “these  values  are  false,”  they  say;  but  when 
we  press  for  common  sense,  asking  whether  the  epithets 
“false”  and  “true”  are  dictated  by  nature  or  by  each 
painter’s  attitude  toward  his  subjects  and  its  treatment, 
98 


Light  and  Colour 

we  find  that  the  criticism  is  just  a matter  of  verbal 
fanaticism.  There  is  ever  a type  of  critic  who  is  tempted 
to  believe  that  a remark  must  be  true  if  its  look  be  acute 
and  specific.  To  vow  that  a picture  is  false  in  values, 
or  that  the  values  are  incoherent,  is  very  simple  to  write, 
and  its  aim  is  to  kill  like  a revolver  shot  fired  at  point- 
blank  range.  Brangwyn,  like  every  other  painter  of  note, 
has  been  shot  at  by  such  phrases,  for  in  recent  years  the 
word  “values”  has  been  overworked,  often  with  many 
perversities  of  judgment.  Let  us  then  see  what  the 
public  is  to  understand  by  values  or  relations  in  painting. 
Mauclair  gives  the  Impressionist  ideas  on  this  troubled 
question.  After  explaining  that  we  see  only  colours,  and 
that  we  arrive  at  forms — namely,  the  outlines  of  colour — 
by  our  perception  of  the  different  tinted  surfaces  appealing 
to  our  eyes,  he  says  : — 

“ The  idea  of  distance,  of  perspective,  of  volume  is 
given  us  by  darker  or  lighter  colours : this  idea  is  what 
is  called  in  painting  the  sense  of  values.  A value  is  the 
degree  of  dark  or  of  light  intensity  that  permits  our  eyes 
to  comprehend  that  one  object  is  further  or  nearer  than 
another.  And  as  painting  is  not  and  cannot  be  an 
imitation  of  nature  ” — despite  Monet’s  hay-ricks,  with 
their  efforts  to  show  the  time  of  day  like  clocks — “ can- 
not be  an  imitation  of  nature,  but  merely  her  artificial 
interpretation,  since  it  has  at  its  disposal  only  two  out 
of  three  dimensions,  the  values  are  the  only  means  that 
remain  for  expressing  depth  on  a flat  surface.” 

So  far,  so  good.  But  this  explanation  skips  the  main 
point  of  all  : namely,  the  fact  that  values  in  nature  are 
infinite  even  in  single  objects  like  trees  ; and  besides  this, 

99 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

they  belong  to  the  scale  of  nature,  and  nature  within  her 
scale  is  marvellously  abundant,  working  with  multitudinous 
details  on  each  plane  of  her  compositions.  Art,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  canvases  of  different  sizes ; upon  these, 
whether  large  or  small,  an  illusion  of  air  and  light  and 
space  and  scale  must  be  achieved  ; and  this  cannot  be  done 
without  falsifying  all  the  minor  values  observed  in  nature. 
No  good  painter  tries  to  represent  even  one  quarter  of 
what  he  sees  distinctly.1  His  aim  always  is  to  get  away 
from  profuse  details,  forming  simple  planes  and  masses, 
and  omitting  all  values  that  are  not  essential  to  his  work 
as  a beautiful  thing  of  its  own  kind.  Our  pre-Raphaelites 
wished  to  represent  the  organic  all  of  natural  fact,  striving 
to  give  in  paint  infinities  of  detail,  as  if  portraits  of  in- 
imitable things,  all  crowded  into  one  picture,  could  never 
be  too  abundant  or  too  wearisome.  We  should  not  see 
a beard  if  our  eyes  enabled  us  to  count  the  hairs  in  it. 
Nor  do  we  see  a brick  wall  when  we  begin  to  count 
the  courses. 

The  same  principle  is  true  of  values.  A picture  with 
too  many  values  is  chaotic  ' and  as  for  truth  and  falsehood 
in  this  matter  of  relations,  they  depend  on  results.  A 

1 Theodore  Rousseau  said  : “ What  ‘ finishes  ’ a picture  is  not  the  quantity  of  details  ; it  is 
the  truth  of  the  whole.  If  your  picture  contains  exquisite  detail,  equal  from  one  end  of  the 
canvas  to  the  other,  the  spectator  will  look  at  it  with  indifference.  Everything  interesting 
him  alike,  nothing  will  interest  him  very  much.  There  will  be  no  limit.  Your  picture 
may  prolong  itself  indefinitely;  you  will  never  reach  the  end  of  it.  You  will  never  have 
finished.  The  whole  is  the  only  thing  that  is  finished  in  a picture.  Strictly  speaking, 
you  might  do  without  colour,  but  you  can  do  nothing  without  harmony .”  Millet  shared 
these  views,  which  have  much  in  common  with  the  dicta  of  Poussin.  “The  singular 
application  bestowed  on  the  study  of  colour,”  said  Poussin,  “is  an  obstacle  that  prevents 
people  from  attaining  the  real  aim  of  painting  ; and  the  man  who  attaches  himself  to  the 
main  thing — style — will  acquire  by  practice  a fine  enough  manner  of  painting.”  But  views 
on  art  are  justified  by  one  thing  only — great  achievement. 

IOO 


Light  and  Colour 

painter  chooses  a key,  and  works  in  accordance  with  it ; if 
his  effects  give  pleasure  the  values  are  right  in  art,  and 
represent  the  painter  in  a given  mood.  This  applies  very 
particularly  to  Frank  Brangwyn,  who  paints  at  a white 
heat  and  passes  from  dark  pictures  to  sunny  effects  as  his 
feelings  change  from  day  to  day.  Many  other  men,  as  the 
Paris  Salon  has  proved  during  the  last  thirty  years,  look  to 
fashion  for  their  values  and  their  colour-schemes,  and  then 
try  to  attract  unusual  attention  by  starting  a vogue  at 
variance  with  the  accepted  one.  Cottet  did  this  when  his 
first  Breton  dramas,  sombre  and  gloomy,  were  sent  to 
exhibitions  filled  with  sunlit  pictures.  Changing  fashions 
cannot  help  modern  art  to  find  its  proper  evolution  ; and 
we  should  keep  our  greatest  admiration  for  those  men  who 
are  painters  not  of  modes  but  of  moods,  like  Sargent  and 
Legros  and  Brangwyn. 

There  is  one  thing  more  that  belongs  to  this  chapter ; it 
affects  painters  in  their  relation  to  all  critics,  whether  lay  or 
professional : it  is  a fact  that  no  two  persons  in  this  world 
get  from  the  same  things  the  same  impressions  of  colour. 
That  is  to  say,  the  colour-sense  in  man  is  as  various  as  the 
expression  in  human  eyes  or  the  shape  of  human  foreheads 
and  noses  and  mouths.  Even  in  a life-class,  under  the 
most  rigorous  of  school  conventions,  there  is  always  some- 
thing peculiar  in  each  student’s  preferences  of  tint.  It 
follows,  then,  that  the  colours  which  a painter  sees  while  at 
work  are  not  those  which  we  see  when  we  pass  our  several 
opinions  on  his  work  ; and  if  there  is  any  defect  in  the 
colour-sense  of  an  onlooker  it  prompts  some  injustice  or 
other  to  the  picture.  How  rarely  complete  that  sense  has 
been  in  the  history  of  art  is  proved  by  the  small  number 

IOI 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

of  great  colourists  to  be  found  in  the  winnowed  harvest  of 
masterpieces ; and  this  being  so  among  painters,  consider 
how  very  fallible  the  colour-sense  must  be  in  ordinary 
persons.  Yet  the  very  thing  in  art  that  ordinary  persons 
feel  that  they  have  a right  to  speak  about  is  colour.  On 
that  one  thing  they  have  never  the  least  self-distrust.  But 
this,  after  all,  is  not  the  main  point.  The  main  point  is 
that  we  criticise,  not  a painter’s  colour,  but  the  varying 
impressions  that  each  of  us  receives  from  his  colour ; and  it 
is  only  by  noticing  whether  these  impressions  in  a great 
number  of  cases  are  favourable  or  unfavourable  that  we 
can  decide  whether  the  painter  is  likely  to  be  ranked 
permanently  among  the  rare  ones  who  are  called  fine 
colourists. 

This  being  so,  Brangwyn  awaits  the  final  verdict  that 
the  revisions  of  time  pass  on  all  born  painters.  Is  he  a fine 
colourist  ? There  are  a great  many  judges  in  Europe  and 
America  who  say  “Yes”;  and  among  his  most  ardent 
devotees  we  find  painters  and  men  who  went  through  a 
long  and  practical  training  before  they  wrote  a word  of 
criticism.  On  the  other  side  we  have  two  facts  : Brangwyn 
is  a painter  of  unusual  force,  and  powerful  art  does  not 
attract  the  gentler  sex  as  a rule  ; and  the  opinions  of  women, 
like  those  from  effeminate  minds  in  men,  count  for  much  in 
a final  verdict.  Reynolds,  with  his  buoyant  virility,  put 
Rubens  among  the  greatest  masters  of  colour,  while  Ruskin 
omitted  his  name ; and  women  support  Ruskin  because 
Rubens  has  little  to  offer  them  in  the  way  of  domestic 
sentiment.  It  is  odd  that  women,  who  in  life  keep  their 
greatest  admiration  for  courage  and  stalwart  manhood, 
choose  the  feminine  graciousness  of  a Luini  rather  than  the 
102 


Light  and  Colour 

conquering  majesty  of  style  in  a Michael  Angelo.  Remem- 
bering these  points,  we  cannot  predict  what  England  will 
think  of  Brangwyn  fifty  years  hence.  She  has  turned  from 
William  Etty,  who  had  some  of  the  finest  qualities  that 
a painter  needs ; and  she  returned  to  Romney  long  before 
she  rediscovered  the  less  variable  charms  of  Raeburn,  a 
manlier  and  often  a finer  painter.  Still,  happily,  there  is 
no  need  for  us  to  look  so  far  ahead : present  art  is  present 
enjoyment,  and  that  is  all  we  need.  Brangwyn  attracts  me 
in  all  his  moods ; and  I will  venture  to  say  of  his  tech- 
nique, his  colour  and  handling,  what  has  been  said  of 
Reynolds : “ He  rejoices  in  showing  you  his  skill ; and 
those  of  you  who  succeed  in  learning  what  painter’s  work 
really  is,  will  one  day  rejoice  also,  even  to  laughter — that 
highest  laughter  which  springs  of  pure  delight,  in  watching 
the  fortitude  and  fire  of  a hand  which  strikes  forth  its  will 
upon  the  canvas  as  easily  as  the  wind  strikes  it  on  the 
sea. 


103 


CHAPTER  VII 


SOME  OTHER  CHARACTERISTICS 

A S I have  read  with  care  the  notices  on  Brangwyn 
/\  that  have  appeared  during  the  last  eighteen  years, 
I know  very  well  what  characteristics  have  been 
mentioned  most  frequently,  both  in  England  and 
in  foreign  countries.  There  are  two  concerning  which  the 
very  same  things  have  been  said  hundreds  of  times,  and 
always— yes,  I think  I may  venture  to  say  always — without 
reference  to  the  painter’s  intention.  Brangwyn’s  effects 
have  been  likened  to  those  in  tapestries  or  in  stained-glass 
windows,  or  to  those  in  Eastern  carpets ; and  complaint 
has  been  made  that  his  perspective  is  often  too  decorative, 
giving  an  insufficient  depth  of  space  filled  with  air. 

In  examining  these  frequent  criticisms  we  must  bear  in 
mind  that  they  are  written  from  the  standpoint  of  men  who 
have  lost  touch  with  fresco-painting  and  who  give  their 
whole  attention  to  the  study  of  easel-pictures.  It  is  equally 
certain  that  Brangwyn,  after  passing  away  from  his  work 
as  a marine  painter,  began,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  to 
prepare  himself  for  the  great  mural  decorations  that  now 
occupy  the  principal  part  of  his  time  and  thought.  Even  in 
“The  Buccaneers”  he  is  not  a maker  of  easel-pictures,  the 
style  being  larger  and  more  synthetic  ; and  this  reminds  us 
that  William  Morris  made  no  mistake  when  he  discerned, 
even  in  the  boy’s  first  studies,  that  he  had  come  upon  a 

104 


Some  other  Characteristics 


genius  for  design  and  handicraft.  Brangwyn’s  ideas  as  a 
painter  are  not  bounded  by  a gold  frame ; they  belong  to 
the  ampler  and  more  difficult  conventions  of  applied  art — 
that  is  to  say,  of  art  applied  to  the  ornamentation  of  some 
surface  that  will  bear  enrichment  without  harm  to  its  value 
as  a structural  feature.  For  instance,  if  walls  are  to  be 
decorated  in  a proper  manner,  there  must  be  unity  between 
them  and  the  paintings  that  form  a part  of  their  surface, 
otherwise  the  walls  will  lose  their  look  of  flat  strength  and 
become  unlike  a support  in  architecture.  Some  of  the  base 
decorators  of  the  eighteenth  century  went  to  great  pains  to 
give  a pictorial  perspective  to  their  mural  work,  with  the 
result  that  people  seemed  to  be  looking  through  the  walls 
at  some  distant  landscape.  They  forgot  that  when  a picture 
is  framed  and  hung  up,  it  is  accepted  as  a thing  detached 
from  the  wall  behind  it,  so  we  are  willing  to  take  pleasure 
in  its  far-going  perspective,  its  illusion  of  disappearing  dis- 
tances. True  art  in  any  kind  of  fresco  work  is  within  the 
domain  of  architecture ; and  for  this  reason  perspective  is 
suggested  in  such  a way  that  it  does  not  make  holes  in  the 
wall.  We  look  into  and  through  an  easel-picture ; we  look 
at  and  on  a mural  decoration,  and  expect  it  to  be  apt  for  its 
purpose. 

At  a time  when  painting  has  degenerated  into  a mere 
ornament  to  be  put  in  gilt  frames  against  walls,  it  is  inevit- 
able that  onlookers  should  be  at  first  worried  by  any  painter 
whose  feelings  for  art  are  decorative,  not  pictorial ; and 
Brangwyn's  native  delight  in  the  larger  aspects  of  design, 
when  considered  as  a servant  of  architecture,  has  been  de- 
veloped by  his  liking  for  the  most  varied  kinds  of  applied 
ornamentation.  He  has  collected  fine  examples  of  the  best 
o 105 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JVork 

handicraft,  ranging  from  Persian  rugs  to  Old  English  fur- 
niture, and  from  Japanese  metal-work  and  screens  to  photo- 
graphs of  the  most  beautiful  frescoes.  It  is  possible  that, 
unconsciously,  he  has  taken  hints  of  colour  from  Eastern 
work,  his  method  being  one  of  contrast,  plots  of  colour 
being  happily  placed  in  juxtaposition ; but,  however  that 
may  be,  I look  upon  his  easel-pictures  as  a preparation  for 
the  very  difficult  problems  that  he  has  solved  in  mural 
paintings. 

I have  already  hinted  at  another  characteristic — namely, 
his  treatment  of  the  volume  and  the  weight  of  things  that 
he  represents.  It  is  not  my  contention,  of  course,  that  his 
touch  is  invariably  responsive  to  subtle  variations  of  light- 
ness and  solidity ; but  if  you  compare  any  of  his  finest 
work  with  representative  paintings  or  etchings  by  other 
leading  artists  of  to-day,  I believe  you  will  find  that  he 
is  often  more  sensitive  than  they  are  to  values  of  bulk 
and  mass.  To  take  examples  from  among  living  men 
would  be  invidious  in  a book  of  this  kind,  but  everybody 
must  have  noticed  how  in  many  pictures  by  Millet  the 
surface  quality  of  the  paint  is  too  much  the  same  in  all 
parts,  as  if  solid  ground  and  worn  clothes  were  equally 
heavy,  as  if  tremulous  leaves  and  moving  clouds  had  no 
differences  of  weight.  Millet  himself  became  conscious  of 
this,  for  in  some  of  his  last  pictures  he  tried  with  great 
pains  literally  to  construct  a variety  of  textures.  With 
Brangwyn  it  is  instantaneous  feeling  that  leads  him  to  the 
best  results.  His  handicraft  is  never  too  light  in  all  parts, 
as  happens  pretty  often  in  the  airy  technique  of  Corot : 
nor  too  uniform  in  volume  and  strength,  as  Constable  is 
too  frequently.  There  are  skies  by  Constable  that  we 

io  6 


Some  other  Characteristics 


accept  just  because  they  are  painted  in  sky  tints,  though 
they  are  as  heavy  in  substance  as  the  ground  bearing 
great  trees.  This  would  be  seen  at  once  if  the  sky  tints 
were  altered  into  earthen  hues,  every  cloud  being  repre- 
sented in  paler  or  in  darker  tones. 

Where  painters  go  wrong  most  often  is  in  their  treat- 
ment of  architecture.  Many  do  not  feel  either  the  upward 
flight  of  Gothic  or  the  great  downward  pressure  of  Classic 
buildings.  It  is  no  uncommon  thing  to  notice  that  their 
attention  is  concentrated  on  the  upper  parts  of  a house  or 
a church,  and  that  their  touch  grows  feebler  as  it  gets 
nearer  to  the  solid  earth,  upon  which  the  whole  structure 
rests.  Now  Brangwyn,  as  a rule,  like  Turner,  has  a keen 
liking  and  care  for  the  spirit  and  the  weight  of  architecture. 
He  can  build  with  his  brush,  revealing  the  horizontal  mass 
of  Classic  and  the  hopeful,  alert  spring  of  Gothic.  He  does 
not  construct  his  buildings  from  the  roof  downwards,  like 
many  a painter  whom  I could  name ; he  rises  up  from  the 
ground  with  a mason’s  delight  in  a secure  foundation. 
M dry  on  had  the  same  happy  gift,  and  so  had  Piranesi. 
You  will  find  the  same  thing  in  Girtin,  and  also  in  the 
exquisite  pencil  drawings  by  William  Twopeny,  who  could 
suggest  in  a few  rapid  touches  the  crumbled  weight  of  any 
object  ravaged  by  the  hand  of  time,  from  a fragment  of 
old  wood-carving  to  a cathedral  church. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  you  compare  the  architecture 
in  Impressionist  pictures,  going  from  Leon  Dufrenoy  to 
Pissarro’s  “Boulevard  Montmartre”  and  “The  Boildieaux 
Bridge  at  Rouen,”  you  will  see  that  Dufrenoy  is  apt  to 
be  flimsy,  as  if  he  had  but  very  little  appreciation  for  the 
witchery  of  design  in  brick  and  stone.  Modern  English 

107 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TVork 

pictures  also  are  often  very  weak  from  this  standpoint, 
while  Brangwyn  will  delight  you  with  the  cross-barred 
airy  look  of  a scaffolding  or  with  the  dead-weight  of  a 
derelict  ironclad  lying  heaved-over  on  the  sand.  That  he 
should  construct  ships  admirably  is  not  surprising,  while 
his  interpretation  of  architecture  is,  for  he  served  no 
apprenticeship  in  that  art.  This  may  be  a question  of 
heredity,  since  his  father  was  an  architect. 

Volume  and  weight  are  very  difficult  to  convey  in  a 
few  sketched  lines.  Rowlandson,  with  a few  touches  of  a 
pencil  and  a wash  or  two  of  water-colour,  could  put  a fat 
man  erect  on  his  feet,  and  you  feel  that  the  fatness  really 
is  heavy,  and  not  blown  out  with  air  like  the  false  stomach 
of  a stageland  Falstaff.  Brangwyn  has  the  same  gift.  His 
most  rapid  sketches  have  life  and  bulk ; there’s  a body 
in  every  suit  of  clothes  and  a feeling  for  growth  in  his 
roughly  indicated  trees.  There  are  times  when  this  envi- 
able quality  of  his  work  is  carried  to  excess  (at  least,  so  it 
seems  to  me),  for  I remember  certain  dark  masses  of  trees 
against  the  sky  that  look  too  ponderous ; but  no  artist  has 
ever  been  perfect  in  this  most  delicate  and  difficult  art 
of  showing  by  touch  varieties  of  substance  and  weight, 
all  within  the  envelope  of  atmospheric  illusion. 

It  is  like  violin  playing,  where  bow  and  fingers  and 
strings  answer  at  once  to  the  changeful  spirit  of  the  music, 
giving  infinite  variations  of  expressive  volume  in  sounds. 
Emotion  passes  continually  from  the  music  to  the  player, 
and  thence  from  him  to  the  instrument — emotion  having 
an  ordered  sequence : and  something  akin  to  this  happens 
when  the  inspiration  from  external  nature  influences  a 
painter,  whose  eyes  and  whose  touch  pass  (let  us  say)  from 
108 


Some  other  Characteristics 


an  unfathomable  sky  to  a range  of  distant  hills,  thence 
through  a valley  of  trees  to  a group  of  figures  in  the  fore- 
ground. In  every  part  of  this  picture  the  values  of  weight 
differ,  and  the  painter’s  touch  is  called  upon  to  be  in 
emotional  sympathy  with  each  part.  Yet  few  artists  have 
been  alert  and  wide-awake  to  all  that  this  orchestration  of 
weight-values  means  in  painting.  Critics,  too,  pass  over 
it  in  silence,  as  a rule,  and  the  public  is  content  to  judge 
pictures  by  their  general  aspects. 

It  is  easy  to  tell  a true  expert  by  the  way  in  which  he 
examines  a painting.  He  studies  it  at  first  with  his  eyes 
near  to  the  canvas,  so  as  to  learn  by  heart  the  peculiarities 
of  brush-craft ; these  are  as  interesting  to  him  as  the  facial 
expression  of  a great  actor  when  seen  through  an  opera- 
glass.  Then  he  moves  backward  till  he  sees  the  whole 
picture  in  focus,  and  he  gives  as  much  attention  to  values 
of  weight  as  to  values  of  tone.  The  surface  look  of  a 
Brangwyn  picture  is  indescribable — swift,  deft,  impetuous, 
ruthless  touches  here,  gliding  touches  there,  plots  of  colour 
contrasted  with  spaces  of  free,  simple  painting,  and  never 
a thing  that  seems  costive.  Great  emotional  energy  is 
shown  throughout  ; and  you  learn  that  when  a passage 
here  and  there  is  not  equal  in  felicity  to  the  others,  it 
arises,  not  from  any  carelessness,  but  because  an  inspira- 
tion spent  itself  and  could  not  be  recalled.  For  painting 
of  this  kind  is  like  the  acting  of  Edmund  Kean  as  de- 
scribed by  spectators  ; we  cannot  expect  that  its  energy  in 
every  work  will  be  equally  inspired  throughout. 

If,  now,  we  turn  to  one  of  Brangwyn’s  recent  pictures, 
choosing  “Wine,”  exhibited  this  year  at  the  Royal  Academy, 
we  shall  be  able  to  follow  the  orchestration  of  weight-values. 

109 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

What  is  the  subject  ? A rustic  Bacchus  in  the  act  of 
drinking  from  a small  bowl  the  juice  of  crushed  grapes. 
He  is  garlanded  with  grapes ; other  bunches  lie  in  his  lap 
on  a blue  drapery ; his  great  torso,  wonderfully  modelled 
with  very  simple  variations  of  tint,  is  naked ; a pale  scarf, 
yellow-green  in  colour,  is  tied  negligently  around  his  neck ; 
and  with  his  left  arm  cast  about  a huge  green  vase-shaped 
bottle,  he  waits  while  his  companions  fill  another  bowl 
with  liquor.  There  is  a glimpse  of  sky,  kept  grey  and 
unobtrusive.  The  weight -values  here  range  from  the 
greens  within  greens  of  a transparent  bottle  to  the  full  fat 
skins  of  purple  grapes  and  white ; thence  to  firm  muscle 
and  flesh  in  the  sunburnt  attendants,  and  on  to  the  happy 
Bacchus,  whose  torso  is  that  of  a fattening  man  who  takes 
his  ease,  and  hates  movement.  It  is  not  the  transparent- 
looking torso  that  Jordaens  gave  to  his  Bacchus ; there  is 
substance  here,  for  this  voluptuary  is  not  yet  ripe,  he  is  on 
his  way  to  Falstaffhood.  A fine  picture,  alive  with  a lusty 
zest ; it  killed  every  neighbour  in  a big  room,  showing  that 
there  is  justice  in  wine. 

It  is  difficult  to  speak  of  weight-values  in  their  relation 
to  water,  because  water  is  enchanted,  having  moods  so 
multitudinous  that  no  one  can  study  them  all.  Turner 
knew  more  about  this  phase  of  art  than  any  painter,  for 
his  sympathy  was  great  enough  to  embrace  the  widest 
extremes,  ranging,  for  instance,  from  storm-waves  at  sea 
to  rippling  brooks,  and  from  Venetian  canals  to  the  little 
round  cups  worn  in  rocks  by  the  eddying  of  river  water 
through  countless  ages.  Stanfield  was  another  master  of 
seas  and  rivers.  “ He  was  sea-bred,  knew  what  a ship 
was,  and  loved  it ; knew  what  rocks  and  waves  were,  and 


no 


Some  other  Characteristics 


wrought  out  their  strength  and  sway  with  steadfast  will. 
One  work  of  Stanfield’s  alone  presents  us  with  as  much 
concentrated  knowledge  of  sea  and  sky  as,  diluted,  would 
have  lasted  any  one  of  the  old  masters  his  life  ” (Ruskin). 
It  is  odd,  but  British  marine  painters  are  few  and  far 
between,  and  therefore  not  fully  representative  of  our 
insular  position  and  naval  power.  Monamy,  Brooking, 
Powell,  Serres,  Anderson,  Scott,  lead  us  on  towards 
George  Chambers,  E.  W.  Cooke,  O.  W.  Brierly,  James  C. 
Hook,  John  Brett,  Henry  Moore,  Colin  Hunter,  W.  L. 
Wyllie,  Edwin  Hayes,  C.  Napier  Hemy,  Walter  Shaw, 
T.  B.  Hardy,  J.  R.  Reid,  Stanhope  Forbes,  Somerscales, 
Frank  Brangwyn,  and  others.  If  we  except  his  treatment 
of  waves  in  a riot  of  movement,  the  waters  that  Brangwyn 
loves  best  are  those  in  the  Near  East,  and  those  in  our 
heavy  grey  Thames  when  smoke  soars  up  into  a pageant 
of  the  day’s  commercial  work.  On  certain  days  there  is  a 
wonderful  fantasy  of  design  in  London’s  smoke  over  the 
great  river,  and  Brangwyn  feels  the  charm  of  it  more  than 
any  other  painter.  It  appeals  to  him  as  a symbol  of  power, 
of  human  toil  and  invention,  just  as  the  river  itself  is  in 
a way  humanised  by  the  waste  products  from  bankside 
industries  that  thicken  and  sully  the  tides.  There  is  poetry 
in  all  labour,  and  Brangwyn  is  in  touch  with  most  of  its 
manifestations. 

I cannot  say  with  all,  because  he  is  not  often  drawn 
towards  the  sinister  and  tragic  aspects  of  life  and  toil, 
like  Legros  and  Meunier.  His  attitude  to  industrialism 
is  that  of  a sportsman  towards  football  and  hunting. 
He  accepts  as  inevitable  the  hazards  that  dangers  bring; 
loves  action  for  its  own  tonic,  and  sees  no  reason  why 

1 1 1 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

his  workmen  should  not  play  their  part  with  spirit  and 
be  free  from  repining.  So  they  carry  their  loads  alertly, 
bear  the  heat  from  molten  metal  as  if  it  were  nothing 
more  than  April  sunshine,  or  make  a railway  cutting 
with  as  much  zeal  as  they  would  show  if  they  were  on 
their  way  to  El  Dorado.  It  is  like  the  spirit  of  Rubens — 
a manly  optimism,  a generous  joy  in  the  glow  and  health 
of  energetic  muscles  at  work.  There  is  a strong  pulse 
in  this  art,  and  a bracing  circulation.  I love  Meunier, 
Millet,  Legros ; I respect  Degroux  and  admire  Ldon 
Frederic;  Cottet  appeals  to  me  greatly;  but  not  one  of 
these  pioneers  of  industrial  art  has  the  observant  cheer- 
fulness that  Brangwyn  has  shown  many  times  in  his 
bold  outlook  on  the  world  as  it  is  to-day.  Since  life 
is  war,  let  us  think  it  better  to  fight  and  lose  than  never 
to  fight  at  all.  Since  death  will  come  one  day,  why  wear 
crape  as  a habit,  and  keep  in  our  thoughts  an  unending 
supply  of  black-edged  notepaper?  Good  heavens!  If 
laughter  be  at  all  difficult,  surely  that  difficulty  should 
urge  us  on  into  laughter  , for  easy  things  are  the  least 
worth  doing.  This,  so  I believe,  is  the  spirit  that  underlies 
most  of  the  industrial  phases  of  Brangwyn’s  work. 

Detractors  complain  and  ask  for  “ sentiment,”  a cheap 
quality  indeed  in  English  pictures  ; one  critic  going  so 
far  as  to  declare — in  the  Westminster  Gazette , April  22, 
1906 — that  “ Mr.  Brangwyn  has  no  more  sentiment  than 
would  lie  on  a threepenny  piece.”  Libels  of  this  blatant 
kind  ought  to  be  subject  to  immediate  public  rebuke. 
When  a writer  in  the  Press  forgets  that  it  is  impossible 
to  paint  without  emotion  and  that  every  form  of  emotion 
is  a form  of  sentiment,  protests  should  be  made  in  the 


THE  VENETIAN  FUNERAL 


Some  other  Characteristics 


most  public  manner.  There  is  as  much  sentiment  in  the 
fiercest  jealousy  of  Othello  as  in  his  tender  love.  Senti- 
ment in  art  is  just  a mood  of  aesthetic  feeling,  whether 
tender  or  vehement,  pathetic  or  joyous,  contemplative  or 
heroic.  And  when  Brangwyn  is  judged  by  this  principle 
of  genuine  criticism,  he  stands  out  as  a master  of  sentiment 
as  varied  as  he  is  manly. 

Though  he  takes  no  morbid  pleasure  in  suffering, 
he  has  touched  more  than  once  the  heart  of  the  greatest 
sorrows,  bringing  us  face  to  face  with  that  dread  Visitor 
who  claims  every  year  from  mankind  40,000,000  lives — 
a whole  world  of  friends  and  neighbours.  Death  is  the 
subject  of  “ The  Venetian  Funeral,”  chosen  as  a colour- 
print  for  this  book.  It  is  a noble  picture,  powerfully 
rhythmic  in  design,  rugged,  masterful,  painted  with 
tremendous  vigour,  and  having  just  that  degree  of  pathos 
that  a great  sorrow  can  make  known  in  a public  thorough- 
fare without  loss  of  dignity,  without  moving  onlookers 
with  a feeling  of  unpleasant  self-consciousness.  The  figure 
of  the  chief  mourner  is  quite  monumental ; and  the  spiritual 
drama  expressed  by  his  attitude  and  face  has  a kindness 
of  reserve  that  few  painters  feel  and  represent.  It  is  a 
charity  to  veil  tragic  emotions ; grief  must  have  its  own 
mysteries. 

“The  Venetian  Funeral”  was  seen  at  the  Royal 
Academy  in  1906 — the  Red  Academy,  so  called  because 
the  walls  were  dappled  all  over  with  scarlet  coats, 
crimson  dresses,  vermilion  draperies,  and  so  forth.  In 
the  reddest  room  of  all  we  found  Brangwyn’s  picture, 
and  its  cool,  decorative  treatment  was  so  much  at  odds 
with  its  trivial  neighbours  that  no  one  could  appreciate  it 

113 


p 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

justly.  Who  could  understand  Grieg’s  “Funeral  March” 
if  a score  of  brass  bands  played  the  most  recent  popular 
tunes? 

Many  notices  appeared,  and  I have  chosen  two 
giving  contrasts  of  opinion.  The  first  is  from  the  Daily 
Telegraph : “Mr.  Frank  Brangwyn’s  canvas,  ‘A  Venetian 
Funeral  ’ (No.  532),  is  conceived  on  a still  larger  scale  than 
his  ‘Wine  Sellers’  at  the  New  Gallery,  and  handled  with 
the  same  tremendous  breadth  and  dash.  The  subject  here 
chosen  is,  it  must  be  owned,  strangely  unsuited  to  the  bold 
and  even  turbulent  form  of  decorative  treatment  which 
Mr.  Brangwyn — not  without  striking  results  from  his  own 
point  of  view — brings  to  bear  upon  it.  A boat-load  of 
mourning  Venetian  folk,  pioneered  by  brawny  boatmen, 
not  of  the  gondolier  tribe,  is  momentarily  arrested  in  a 
side  canal,  and  faces  the  spectator  at  close  quarters, 
revealing  many  phases  of  woe,  expressed  with  a tragic, 
not  a sordid,  realism.  Yet  such  a subject  must  be  still 
further  generalised  and  removed  from  the  actual,  if  it  is 
fitly  to  serve  as  the  foundation  for  monumental  decora- 
tion. A Puvis  de  Chavannes  would  have  given  us 
‘Mourning’  as  a pendant  to  ‘Rejoicing’ — the  sacrament 
of  Death  balancing  the  sacrament  of  Marriage ; a Besnard 
might  possibly  have  succeeded,  as  he  has,  indeed,  at  the 
Iicole  de  Pharmacie,  in  adapting  such  a subject  to  decora- 
tive uses  without  loss  of  its  modernity  and  its  poignancy. 
If  Mr.  Brangwyn  has  failed,  he  has  failed  most  honourably 
— in  setting  himself  a technical  and  spiritual  problem  that 
admits  of  no  perfect  solution.  Flis  design  is  powerfully 
rhythmic  and  of  a rugged  grandeur,  some  of  these  figures 
of  mourners,  taken  by  themselves,  being  among  the  noblest 


Some  other  Characteristics 


things  in  an  exhibition,  to  little  in  which  the  epithet 
‘noble’  can  properly  be  applied.” 

The  critic  of  the  Pall  Mall  Gazette  was  less  thoughtful, 
being  occupied  with  himself,  not  with  the  picture.  He 
said : “ One  need  not  consider  the  incident,  for  the  mosaic 
is  too  conscious  to  admit  of  pathos,  and  humanity  is 
eliminated.  Here  one  puts  one’s  finger  on  the  difference 
between  Brangwyn  and  Veronese,  and  recognises  the  gap 
between  the  less  and  the  greater.”  But  the  work  is  a 
Brangwyn,  not  a Veronese,  and  why  is  it  that  editors  do 
not  keep  watch  and  ward  over  their  writers  on  art.  To  say 
that  humanity  is  eliminated  from  “The  Venetian  Funeral” 
is  a very  evident  slander  on  a fine  picture.  An  artist 
cannot  do  more  than  represent  manly  pathos  ; it  is  beyond 
his  power  to  endow  his  judges  with  a capacity  to  feel  the 
difference  between  good  pathos  and  bad.  True  pathos  in 
art  has  the  dignity  of  self-respect ; it  does  not  blab  out 
all  its  secrets  to  heedless  chance-comers.  “The  Venetian 
Funeral  ” is  not  without  blemishes,  but  as  a picture  of 
sunshine  and  shadow,  of  joy  and  sorrow,  of  mirth  and 
death,  it  is  a remarkable  work,  and  would  hold  its  own 
anywhere.  It  now  hangs  in  the  Leeds  Art  Gallery,  and 
people  find  that  something  new  is  to  be  discovered  in  it 
every  day. 

We  pass  on  now  to  another  characteristic — namely,  to 
Brangwyn’s  liking  for  crowds.  The  figures  in  his  pictures 
seem  to  crave  for  companionship.  This  may  be  too  evident 
at  times  ; I feel  now  and  again  that  the  composition  is  too 
full ; but  it  is  the  privilege  of  strong  men  to  give  over 
much,  as  if  nature  compelled  them  to  vie  with  her  pro- 
digality. Millet  never  ventured  to  compose  with  many 

1 15 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IVork 

figures,  for  his  energy  was  of  the  kind  that  concentrates 
on  a few  objects.  Whistler,  too,  achieved  much  with 
little,  for  he  had  not  enough  emotional  endurance  to  do 
more  with  much.  It  is  only  the  men  who  have  some 
affinity  of  temperament  with  Rubens  that  long  for  many 
characters  in  the  dramatic  design  of  their  art. 

Invention  is  another  trait  in  the  work  of  Frank 
Brangwyn.  You  will  find  it  everywhere,  and  always  with 
a distinctive  character.  This  fact  being  particularly  evi- 
dent, I will  note  only  one  phase  of  it,  asking  you  to  study 
with  care  his  treatment  of  clothes  and  draperies.  There 
is  much  variety  here,  but  you  will  see  very  often  that  folds 
and  creases  have  a special  air  of  their  own,  modelled  with 
a square  brush,  and  having  little  attractive  nodules.  I 
am  sure  you  must  know  the  frieze-like  picture  entitled 
“ Charity,”  which,  when  seen  at  the  New  Gallery  in  1900, 
was  very  much  liked  because  of  its  four  qualities  : quaint 
and  graceful  costumes,  a felicitous  grouping  of  figures 
under  a low  horizontal  pole,  contrasts  between  crippled 
age  and  youth,  and  a subtle  blend  of  colour  having  a rare 
beauty — strange  modulated  blues,  pale  russets  and  pearly 
greys,  faint  carnations,  and  crimsons.  A Lady  Bountiful 
in  a blue  robe,  with  ailing  children  gathered  around  her, 
gives  alms  to  a couple  of  old  men,  one  halt,  the  other 
blind,  while  a mother  awaits  her  turn,  carrying  tenderly 
in  her  arms  a little  nude  baby.  The  draperies  are  all  made 
in  the  factory  of  Brangwyn’s  mind,  and  all  are  good.  The 
old  fellow  with  a crutch  under  his  arm  is  naked  nearly 
to  the  waist ; there  a heavy  garment  gathers  itself  into  a 
girdle  of  folds  and  falls  down  about  the  legs  in  uncertain 
lines  of  light  and  shade  very  suggestive  of  physical  weak- 
1 16 


Some  other  Characteristics 


ness.  The  children  are  all  charming : with  bare  necks, 
their  light  dresses  gathered  in  about  the  hips  by  a belt,  and 
full  sleeves  of  a rustling  softness.  The  note  of  optimism 
is  found  in  every  part,  for  this  charity  is  given  and  accepted 
in  the  same  spirit — with  joy  and  without  parade.  Grati- 
tude does  not  come  to  those  who  expect  it  and  wait 
for  it. 

This  decoration  was  not  understood  by  a good  many 
critics,  who  looked  for  an  easel-picture  and  found  a work 
to  ornament  the  surface  of  a wall.  The  Athenceum  re- 
gretted the  painter’s  “abandonment  of  that  original  and 
masculine  style  of  art  which  he  adopted  in  his  delinea- 
tion of  the  tragedies  of  maritime  events — burials  at  sea, 
storm-smitten  ships,  and  the  ocean’s  wars  ” — things  which 
had  to  cross  the  Channel  before  they  were  justly  appreciated 
between  1889  and  1894.  It  is  distance  of  time  that  lends 
enchantment  to  good  things  in  a painter’s  art. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


DECORATIVE  PAINTING 

T is  beyond  doubt  that  Frank  Brangwyn  at  his  best 
is  a master  of  design,  who  delights  to  be  in  close 
alliance  with  applied  art,  its  practical  needs  and  its 
ideals  of  ornamentation.  His  work,  considered 
separately  and  as  a whole,  comes  within  the  great  province 
of  decoration  where  painting  is  obedient  to  an  ordered 
scheme  of  colour  and  line  required  by  some  architectural 
setting  ; obedient  in  a big  and  aspiring  way,  as  music  bears 
obedience  to  counterpoint  and  harmony,  or  as  buildings 
answer  to  the  control  of  their  sites  and  rational  plans. 
Brangwyn  has  never  looked  upon  painting  as  a maker  of 
toys  and  trifles  for  an  incalculable  market  where  whims 
and  fashions  vary  from  year  to  year.  Temperament, 
training,  inborn  gifts,  helped  by  opportunities,  have  given 
to  his  style  as  a modern  of  the  moderns  one  thing  that 
allies  it  to  the  Old  Masters,  for  all  painters  of  high  rank 
used  to  be  connoisseurs  of  design  in  all  ways. 

That  is  a fact  to  be  underlined.  It  is  true  of  times 
much  later  than  those  of  Dtirer  and  Holbein.  Even 
among  Italians  of  the  decadence,  among  the  Rossos  and 
Primatices,  whose  taste  was  often  doubtful,  you  will  find 
an  imagination  full  of  life  that  creates  decoratively,  and 
so  it  is  different  from  the  tamer  imagination  that  finds 
a home  in  most  easel-pictures  of  the  present  day.  Francois 
1 1 8 


‘Decorative  ‘Painting 


Millet  stayed  for  hours  before  the  Primatices  and  Rossos, 
and  called  them  his  “ kind  giants.”  He  admired  their 
debonair  brave  skill,  the  ease  with  which  they  built  up  their 
big  inventions ; and  because  he  came  upon  similar  qualities 
of  creative  decoration  in  certain  French  painters  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  he  gave  his  heart  to  Le  Brun  and 
Jouvenet,  whom  he  thought  very  strong  ; to  Lesueur, 
“one  of  the  great  souls  of  the  French  school,”  and  to  the 
noble  Poussin,  “ who  is  the  prophet,  the  wise  man  and 
philosopher  of  it,  and  also  the  most  eloquent  arranger  of 
a scene.”1 

I mention  Millet  here  not  only  because  he  was  a fore- 
runner of  Brangwyn  in  democratic  art,  but  because  his 
genius  was  sometimes  decorative  rather  than  pictorial ; 
he  designed,  giving  a large  air  of  ornamental  authority 
to  some  of  his  most  successful  work.  Millet,  too,  like 
Brangwyn,  is  not  much  concerned  with  what  may  be  called 
the  portraiture  of  natural  facts ; he  likes  to  express  the 
type  very  strongly,  the  type  being,  to  his  mind,  the  most 
powerful  truth,  because  it  represents  many  facts  and  much 
observation  welded  into  a generic  symbol.  The  French 
peasant  was  far  more  attractive  to  Millet  than  a French 
peasant,  just  as  the  Flemish  collier  or  puddler  held  the 
imagination  of  Constantin  Meunier.  And  this  transfor- 
mation of  individuals  into  types  counts  for  a very  great 
deal  in  all  art  work  that  can  be  called  monumental,  or 
architectural,  or  mural  and  decorative. 

The  eye,  when  once  it  has  learnt  to  look  for  ornament, 
rather  than  for  isolated  natural  truth,  finds  the  type  every- 
where : in  the  distinctive  foliage  of  each  species  of  tree,  in  the 

1 See  " Romain  Ronald,”  pp.  149-150.  Duckworth  & Co. 

1 19 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

surging  movement  of  water  under  the  pressure  of  tempest 
winds,  in  the  peculiar  character  of  face  that  belongs  to  some 
profession  or  study  or  handicraft,  and  so  forth.  The  type 
dominates  life  and  nature.  Yet  in  easel-pictures,  as  a rule, 
we  find  portraiture  of  things  seen  rather  than  the  decorative 
vision  that  resolves  the  concrete  and  individual  into  the 
typical,  fleshed  with  action  and  power.  Easel-painting — 
that  is,  the  making  of  pictures  for  no  definite  purpose,  to 
be  put  somewhere,  anywhere,  by  any  person — is  a second- 
rate  form  of  art  that  enfeebles  the  mind  and  gives  us 
infinitely  too  much  every  year.  If  it  were  stopped  for  a 
whole  decade  there  would  still  remain  in  the  markets  far 
too  many  of  its  modern  productions. 

That  a strong  man  should  pass  his  life  as  a maker  of 
painted  toys,  never  knowing  what  chance-buyers  will  like 
them,  never  connecting  his  work  with  a given  position  in 
a room — all  this,  to  my  mind,  is  pathetic  in  its  want  of 
dignity.  The  rooms  of  England  vary  in  every  possible 
way,  yet  easel-painters  plod  on  and  on  as  if  their  pictures 
would  suit  any  light  in  any  home.  Not  one  of  them  has 
gone  even  to  the  pains  of  asking  what  is  the  average  size  of 
the  long  walls  in  houses  of  a different  type.  This  could  be 
learnt  if  we  tabulated  the  facts  collected  from  the  varying 
experience  of  a hundred  architects ; and  it  would  be  useful 
to  know  which  pictures  in  an  exhibition  were  intended  for 
villas  of  a given  size  and  rent,  which  for  country  houses 
having  walls  of  a given  area,  and  so  on.  As  it  is,  easel- 
painters  go  their  own  way  in  a freedom  of  inconsequent 
trifling  ; and  very  often  they  try  to  show  contempt  for  those 
whose  gifts  and  aims  are  decorative  and  architectural. 

We  see,  then,  that  there  are  two  categories  of  painters, 
120 


SANTA  MARIA  DELLA  SALUTE,  VENICE. 
From  an  Oil-Painting  in  the  Wellington  Gallery , New  Zealand. 


decorative  fainting 


and  that  the  greater  of  the  two  does  not  work  at  haphazard, 
preferring  to  fit  his  schemes  for  some  known  purpose  in  a 
home  or  in  a public  building.  A painter  of  this  kind  is 
never  seen  to  proper  advantage  until  his  pictures  are  ex- 
hibited in  the  places  and  positions  and  lights  for  which  they 
are  destined  ; and  it  is  always  easy  to  know  whether  his 
aims  are  ornamental  in  a right  way,  not  merely  pictorial. 
We  have  only  to  ask  ourselves  a few  questions.  Does  the 
design  fit  its  place  and  suit  its  material  ? Is  it  in  scale  with 
its  surroundings,  or  too  big  or  too  small  ? Is  it  in  harmony 
with  itself?  Does  it  enrich  the  surface  of  that  wall,  or  does 
it  look  like  a hole  or  window?  Some  easel-painters  can 
bear  the  test  of  these  questions ; they  are  at  ease  in  mural 
decoration,  like  Mr.  Sargent  and  Mr.  Abbey ; but  now  that 
picture-shows  are  markets  for  heterogeneous  aims  jumbled 
all  up  together,  few  men  think  it  worth  while  to  pay 
attention  to  design  or  to  think  with  care  of  any  point 
outside  their  canvases  and  gilt  frames. 

Brangwyn  from  the  first  has  been  a very  marked  ex- 
ception ; and  we  have  seen  that  a good  many  writers 
continue  to  find  fault  with  him  because  his  bold  work 
is  not  merely  pictorial,  but  decorative,  and  therefore  in 
keeping  with  art  as  applied  to  walls  and  their  orna- 
mentation. A good  many  of  his  pictures  are  very  well 
fitted  for  public  galleries,  while  others  ought  to  be 
framed  within  the  panelling  of  walls.  Indeed,  though 
a good  Brangwyn  has  a great  effect  and  charm  when 
it  is  hung  up  as  a picture,  it  would  look  still  better 
were  it  framed  structurally  as  a mural  decoration.  Even 
his  paintings  of  still-life  are  beautiful  in  a decorative 
way,  and  should  be  set  in  the  woodwork  of  wainscoted 

Q I 2 I 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  PFork 

halls  and  billiard-rooms.  As  to  the  museum  pieces,  their 
merit  has  been  recognised  by  museums  in  many  towns. 
“ The  Return  from  the  Promised  Land  ” has  gone  to 
Johannesburg,  and  the  “Mars  and  Venus”  to  Dublin; 
Glasgow  has  “The  Funeral  at  Sea,”  and  Southport  “The 
Slave  Market”;  “St.  Simeon  Stylites”  hangs  in  Venice, 
and  “The  Baptism  of  Christ”  at  Stuttgart;  the  National 
Gallery  of  New  South  Wales,  at  Sydney,  owns  “The 
Scoffers”  (a  scattered  rabble  of  Moors  jibing  at  a captive 
Spanish  general  before  they  kill  him) ; at  Prague  you  will 
find  a picture  of  Turkish  fishermen,  at  Munich  a noble 
view  of  Assisi;  Barcelona  owns  “The  Wine  Shop,”  the 
Luxembourg  has  “Trade  on  the  Beach”  and  a delightful 
water-colour,  “ A Moorish  Well,”  and  many  other 
galleries  have  one  apiece,  like  Chicago  and  Pittsburg. 
In  Leeds  we  find  a series  of  Brangwyns — the  “Venetian 
Funeral  ” and  five  labour  panels,  representing  weavers, 
potters,  blacksmiths,  workers  in  steel,  and  navvies,  all 
characteristic. 

A few  critics  in  England  have  long  recognised  and 
admired  the  real  bent  of  Brangwyn’s  genius.  There  is 
Mr.  Charles  Holme,  founder  and  editor  of  The  Studio — 
a magazine  of  world-wide  reputation,  which  has  kept  in 
touch  with  Brangwyn’s  work  from  the  first  number,  pub- 
lished in  1893,  and  containing  the  first  part  of  a letter  by 
Brangwyn  on  Spain  as  a sketching  ground.  Next,  there 
are  Mr.  George  Moore,  Mr.  M.  H.  Spielmann,  Mr.  Little, 
Mr.  Haldane  Macfall,  Mr.  P.  G.  Konody,  the  late  Gleeson 
White,  the  late  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson,  Mr.  F.  Rinder,  Mr. 
Laurence  Binyon,  Mr.  Claude  Phillips,  Mr.  Baldry,  Mr.  F. 
Rutter,  and  Mr.  Selwyn  Image,  Slade  Professor  at  Oxford. 

122 


! Decorative  \ Painting 

Mr.  I mags  has  known  Brangwyn  for  twenty-seven  years, 
watching  his  progress  from  the  first  efforts.  He  says : — 
“That  this  virile  and  original  artist  should  have  at- 
tained his  admirable  position  is  a matter  for  congratulation, 
but  assuredly  it  is  no  matter  for  surprise  to  those  of  us 
who  knew  him  as  a boy.  I remember,  in  those  early  days, 
with  what  astonishment  I used  to  watch  him  covering  large 
canvases  with  bold  and  deftly-painted  designs,  drawn 
mostly  from  his  intimate  acquaintance  with  seafaring  and 
river  life.  His  natural  facility  with  the  brush,  his  natural 
instinct  for  handling  pigment,  seemed  to  me  in  those 
days  for  a student  the  most  remarkable  I knew  of.  Do 
not  let  me  be  misunderstood.  I am  speaking  of  Mr. 
Brangwyn’s  natural  instinct  for  laying  on  pigment  with 
a brush,  and  I would  set  emphasis  on  the  epithet  ‘ natural.’ 
If  his  studies  and  pictures  in  this  boyish  stage  had  many 
remarkable  qualities  to  commend  them,  it  would  be  pre- 
posterous to  deny  that  they  also  had  many  faults.  . . . 
But  to  be  able  to  lay  on  oil-colours  as  he,  a mere  boy,  laid 
them  on,  was  to  show  a power  many  full-grown  artists 
would  have  envied ; and  the  point  is  that  in  Mr.  Brangwyn 
this  ability  was  by  way  of  nature,  for  of  direct  teaching  and 
assiduous  training  he  had  then  practically  nothing  at  all. 
At  any  rate,  it  was  this  abnormal  gift  in  him  that  first 
attracted  me  personally  to  his  work.  It  seemed  to  me  at 
the  time  so  unique  that  I could  not  doubt  it  would  carry 
him  through  to  great  things  by-and-by.  He  would  settle 
down  gradually  to  severer  study.  He  would  not  let  this 
facility  of  the  brush  content  him  and  run  away  with  him. 
His  strong  accompanying  sense  of  designing  in  broad 
masses  would  more  and  more  assert  itself,  and  demand 

123 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

from  him  an  austerer  insistence  upon  form.  As  the  design 
and  the  form  grew,  the  colour  too  would  grow  purer  and 
more  brilliant.  And  so,  beyond  all  question,  it  has  come 
to  pass.  . . .” 

Mr.  Selwyn  Image  finds  decoration  in  all  phases 
of  Brangwyn’s  art : — 

“I  have  just  spoken  of  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  sense  and  power 
of  designing  in  broad  masses — it  was  as  characteristic 
of  him  when  he  was  a beginner  as  it  is  characteristic  of 
him  to-day.  And  undoubtedly  it  is  this  massive  de- 
signing which  gives  its  immediate  distinction  to  his 
. . . pictures  of  fruit,  vegetables,  and  the  like.  These, 
in  their  way,  are  as  impressive  as  his  pictures  of  more 
important  subjects.  Apart  from  the  subject  and  its 
suggestiveness,  one  would  as  lief  have  this  artist’s 
presentation  of  a heap  of  melons  or  a bundle  of  onions 
as  his  painting  of  a group  of  figures,  even  in  some 
heroic  or  moving  human  incident.  Nor  in  this  fine 

treatment  of  these  comparatively  unimportant  objects 
does  he  attain  his  impressiveness  by  any  forced  or  undue 
means.  Under  proper  artistic  conditions  he  is  as  true 
to  the  obvious  appearances  of  nature  as  a man  can  be. 
Any  simple  spectator,  that  is  to  say,  would  be  as 
readily  receptive  of  his  onions  and  melons  as  of  the 
onions  and  melons  of  William  Hunt  himself.  To  use  a 
natural  expression,  they  are  as  like  the  things  as  like 
can  be.  Towards  the  attainment  of  this  desirable  end 
(for  desirable  it  is  that  an  artist’s  appeal  should  reach 
as  far  as  possible),  two  qualities  in  Mr.  Brangwyn’s 
still-life  pieces  especially  contribute — his  clear  definition 
of  forms,  and  his  rich,  luscious  colour.” 

124 


OXD  HOUSES,  GHENT. 
From  an  Original  Etching. 


‘Decorative  ‘Painting 


Again : — 

“ That  the  emphasis  laid  by  the  English  pre- 
Raphaelites  on  detail  and  the  intensity  of  local  colour 
was  in  some  ways  healthy  and  valuable,  is  not  to  be 
denied.  Equally,  that  the  emphasis  laid  by  the  later 
Impressionists  on  atmospheric  effects  of  colour,  pure  and 
vivid,  was  in  some  ways  healthy  and  valuable,  is  not 
to  be  denied.  But  in  the  art  of  landscape-painting  the 
doctrines  of  the  pre-Raphaelites  and  of  the  Impressionists 
did  not  make  for  largeness,  impressiveness,  and  dignity — 
did  not  make  for  what  one  means  by  Design  ; and  in 
landscape,  as  in  every  other  form  of  art,  it  is  Design 
that  counts  permanently  for  more  than  anything  else. 
Now,  whatever  other  qualities  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  land- 
scapes, large  or  small,  elaborated  or  slight,  may  possess 
or  lack,  this  quality  of  Design  they  have  pre-eminently. 
. . . One  notes  also  that  it  is  in  such  masses  as  are 
characterised  by  a certain  rotundity  of  contour,  expressive 
at  once  of  weight  and  motion,  that  he  seems  to  take 
peculiar  delight — the  contour,  for  example,  of  a cumulus 
cloud,  or  of  a full-branched  tree  bending  under  the  wind, 
or  of  an  undulating  hill,  which,  though  actually  immov- 
able, yet  suggests  to  us  the  sense  of  movement.  And 
these  large  contours,  once  caught  and  imaginatively  dis- 
posed in  their  decorative  relation  to  one  another,  con- 
stitute the  structure,  the  anatomy,  the  main  motive  or 
subject,  of  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  pictures.” 1 

Mr.  P.  G.  Konody  ( The  Magazine  of  Art , February 
1903)  has  noticed  other  points,  and  let  us  examine  them 
one  by  one. 


1 The  Studio,  February  1903. 


125 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

i.  The  days  of  the  Olympian  gods  and  of  mytho- 
logical symbolism,  to  which  so  many  of  our  decorative 
artists  cling  with  exasperating  obstinacy,  are  over,  and 
modern  artists  have  to  search  for  new  motives  or  for 
adaptations  of  old  ideas  to  the  spirit  of  our  time. 
“ Nude,  classic  figures,  goddesses  and  nymphs  of  aca- 
demic pose  and  proportion,  are  out  of  place  in  the 
mural  decoration  of  a modern  building ; and  historical 
representations,  though  no  doubt  appropriate  in  many 
instances,  generally  fail  completely  as  regards  decorative 
effect,  owing  to  the  predominance  of  the  literary  interest, 
to  the  attention  paid  to  the  correct  rendering  of  many 
archaeological  details  which  may  be  necessary  in  a 
historical  picture,  but  only  disturb  the  effect  of  a wall 
decoration.” 

It  is  certainly  true  that  the  decline  of  mural  decora- 
tion and  the  rise  of  archaeology  have  been  contem- 
poraneous. The  Old  Masters  were  not  pupils  to  the 

social  facts  of  bygone  times.  Either  they  used  the 
costumes  and  customs  of  their  own  periods  in  their 
historical  subjects,  or  else  they  wrapped  their  art  in 
conventional  draperies  having  the  reputation  of  being 
ancient ; and  their  work  certainly  did  not  improve  when 
knowledge  of  classical  antiquity  became  more  researchful 
and  exact.  Mr.  Konody  mentions  with  disapproval  a 
predominance  of  literary  interest  in  decoration,  but  he 
does  not  forget  that  the  most  august  frescoes  in  the 
world,  inspired  by  the  Bible,  were  sanctioned  and  en- 
couraged by  the  Church  because  of  their  literary  appeal 
to  those  who  either  could  not  read  or  who  turned  away 
from  spoken  sermons.  Note,  too,  that  as  soon  as  a 
126 


\ Decorative  ‘Fainting 

o 

picture  of  any  kind  makes  a great  effect  on  any  person, 
it  enters  the  domain  of  literary  feeling,  for  that  person 
tries  to  find  words  in  which  to  describe  the  picture  and 
the  peculiar  delight  it  has  given  him.  Let  us  not 
think  that  a story  betrays  the  art  of  painting,  since 
every  incident  in  the  Bible  is  a tale  known  to  all  the 
world.  The  fatal  thing  is  a picture  having  no  other 
merit  than  a literary  interest — a picture  without  design, 
without  invention,  and  with  poor,  weak  qualities  of 
handling.  Even  if  you  paint  a face  nobly,  as  Rembrandt 
painted  his  old  women  and  old  men,  you  cannot  help 
filling  it  with  a history  of  Time’s  own  writing.  And  in 
mural  decoration,  more  than  in  any  other  painting,  it 
is  needful  that  the  public  should  know  at  once  what 
the  subject  tries  to  make  real  ; and  that  is  why  the 
most  fitting  themes  are  to  be  chosen  from  three  sources  : 
contemporary  life,  the  most  familiar  episodes  in  past 
history,  and  the  Bible,  especially  the  New  Testament. 
Instinct  seems  to  have  guided  Brangwyn  in  this  matter, 
for  his  decorative  art  has  passed  to  and  fro  between 
to-day’s  life  and  scriptural  episodes,  like  “The  Baptism 
of  Christ  ” and  “ The  Adoration  of  the  Magi.”  To  say 
that  these  works  have  not  a tale  to  relate,  are  without 
a literary  appeal,  would  be  very  incorrect.  They  enter 
into  literature  by  trying  to  penetrate  to  the  inner  essence 
and  the  life  of  their  subjects  ; and  those  painters  who 
have  missed  the  ever-new  poetry  of  the  Gospel  story,  like 
Murillo  and  Velasquez,  show  that  a painter  must  clear 
his  mind  of  the  fear  of  being  literary,  else  he  may  fail 
to  be  religious  and  moving  in  a scriptural  work. 

2.  Mr.  P.  G.  Konody  goes  on  to  say  that  too  many 

127 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

painters  seem  to  think  that  a certain  flatness  of  tints 
and  a key  somewhat  lighter  than  that  of  the  average 
easel-picture  are  all  that  is  required  to  make  a painting 
suitable  for  mural  decoration.  “ No  notion  could  be 
more  erroneous.  If  the  decoration  is  to  be  effective 
as  such,  the  artist  must  never  for  a moment  forget  the 
conditions  under  which  it  will  be  seen,  and  in  his 
scrupulous  consideration  of  this  fundamental  rule  must 
be  found  the  primary  cause  of  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  success.” 
No  doubt.  But  I should  like  to  pause  for  a moment 
on  two  phrases  because  they  have  a very  practical  bearing 
on  decorative  art  as  applied  to  walls  and  public  buildings. 
Mr.  Konody  mentions  “a  certain  flatness  of  tints,”  mean- 
ing, I believe,  a certain  greyness  of  tints,  for  this  was  the 
mode  introduced  by  Puvis  de  Chavannes.  There  was  a 
real  fear  about  ten  years  ago  that  Puvis  had  turned  his 
merited  vogue  into  a tradition,  but  French  critics  of  to-day 
realise  that  his  method  in  decoration  is  not  final ; they 
mention  Brangwyn  now  with  enthusiasm,  and  wish  that 
he  had  his  home  in  Paris.  Several  have  said  so  in 
plain  words,  like  Maurice  Guillemot  ( Art  et  Decoration , 
October  1909),  who  cries:  “ On  pent  regret  ter  qne  Frank 
Brangwyn  ne  soit pas  de  chez  nous."  Puvis  de  Chavannes 
did  noble  works,  but  they  appear  to  be  slipping  away  into 
the  past,  faint  in  colour  and  rather  spectral  in  design. 
They  are  not  fecund  in  their  greatness ; they  do  not 
triumph  through  this  life  into  those  living  traditions  that 
give  permanent  inspiration ; and  the  future  will  belong 
to  a more  virile  manner,  richer  and  more  vital.  What 
that  manner  will  be  at  its  maturity  we  cannot  guess,  but 
Brangwyn’s  art  marks  a period  in  its  evolution. 


‘ 'Decorative  fainting 


Flatness  of  colour — namely,  pigments  that  dry  without 
a gloss  and  lighter  than  when  they  are  put  on — is  a dis- 
tinguishing quality  of  fresco  work,  whether  you  paint  while 
the  ground  is  wet,  or  employ  tempera-pigments  ground  in 
water  and  used  with  size,  or  with  egg — the  yoke  or  the 
white.  Both  these  methods  need  swift,  direct  workman- 
ship, and  therefore  the  practice  and  skill  that  enable  you 
to  finish  as  the  work  proceeds.  The  painting  dries  without 
lustre,  and  possesses  a kind  of  inner  light,  a peculiar 
luminous  quality,  that  allies  it  with  water-colour  pictures. 
Brangwyn  is  very  fond  of  tempera,  believes  that  it  might 
be  varnished  for  easel-pictures,  and  suggests  that  if  stu- 
dents were  taught  to  work  in  it  from  the  life  model  they 
would  gain  in  quick  perception  and  in  painter-like  tech- 
nique. A colour  plate  in  this  book — a symbolistic  decora- 
tion of  Labour  and  Commerce — shows  one  of  his  tempera 
panels  ; and  Londoners  can  see  another  work  in  this  medium 
— it  is  less  mature — at  the  office  of  the  Grand  Trunk  Rail- 
way in  Cockspur  Street,  where  a bold  frieze  above  panelled 
walls  gives  decoratively  incidents  from  the  colonisation  of 
Canada,  its  traffic  with  Red  Indians,  its  march  through 
forests,  its  bridge-building,  and  glimpses  of  that  victorious 
sea  that  ebbs  and  flows  at  present  as  an  emblem  of  union 
between  Great  Britain  and  her  scattered  dominions.  This 
frieze  was  carried  out  for  Sir  Aston  Webb,  R.A.,  architect 
of  the  building. 

The  second  phrase  by  Mr.  Konody  is  “ a key  of  colour 
somewhat  lighter  than  that  of  the  average  easel-picture.” 
In  our  London  climate,  that  deposits  dirt  and  ravages 
Portland  stone,  a dark  fresco  would  soon  become  too  dark, 
while  a pale  fresco  in  course  of  time  would  lose  whatever 
r 129 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

freshness  and  beauty  its  harmony  of  colour  possessed  ; and 
Brangwyn  is  certainly  right  in  being  neither  dark  nor  pale, 
but  joyous  in  broad  rich  colour,  as  witness  the  great  panels 
in  Skinners’  Hall.1 

Tempera  is  safe  enough  when  it  is  put  under  glass 
and  kept  in  a dry  room  ; but  when  its  surface  all  day  long 
is  free  for  the  air  of  London  to  play  upon,  there  is  real 
danger,  for  even  although  it  may  not  crumble  away  through 
the  action  of  damp,  you  cannot  clean  it  without  risk. 
Water  is  harmful,  and  bread  crumbs  not  only  drive  the 
dirt  into  the  granulated  surface,  but,  perhaps,  may  do 
some  harm  to  a very  delicate  material.  For  these  reasons 
tempera  is  better  fitted  for  easel-pictures  than  for  mural 
decoration,  in  any  climate  moister  and  dirtier  than  Italy’s. 

These  technical  points  considered,  we  pass  on  to  Mr. 
Konody’s  description  of  Brangwyn’s  leading  traits  : — 

“ He  is  not  a modern  decorator  of  the  type  which  is 
represented  in  its  highest  form  by  M.  A.  Besnard,  the  deep 
thinker  who  has  opened  up  a new  field  of  decorative  art 
by  creating  a new  pictorial  symbolism  from  the  elements 
furnished  by  the  enormous  modern  advance  in  all  branches 
of  science  and  human  knowledge,  but  in  his  broad  gene- 
ralisation, in  the  use  he  is  making  of  impressions  from 
everyday  life,  in  his  complete  rejection  of  stereotyped  sym- 
bols, and  in  his  technical  methods,  Mr.  Brangwyn  is  a 
modern  of  the  moderns.  Perhaps  the  most  striking  differ- 
ence between  him  and  the  majority  of  our  decorative  artists 
will  be  found  in  his  rejection  of  the  theory  that  the  female 
nude  represents  the  highest  type  of  beauty.  His  is  a mind 

1 This  work,  too,  has  the  advantage  of  being  painted  in  oils,  so  that  dirt  will  be  easy 
to  wash  off  if  the  panels  should  become  too  dirty. 

130 


Decorative  ‘Painting 


that  seeks  for  beauty  in  strength  and  vigour.  ...  In  the 
rare  cases  where  he  has  introduced  women  into  his  decora- 
tive canvases  they  are  nearly  always  clothed,  and  they 
absolutely  defy  the  generally  accepted  canons  of  female 
beauty — of  academic  beauty.  Such  beauty  as  they  possess 
is  the  beauty  of  health  and  irrepressible  joie-de-vivre — the 
beauty  of  the  untamed  animal  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  its 
physical  strength.” 

This  was  written  in  1903,  and  it  gives  Mr.  Konody’s 
impressions  to  that  date.  He  remembered,  no  doubt,  the 
presentation  of  maternal  love  in  “ Rest”  and  “The  Adora- 
tion of  the  Magi  ” ; and  let  us  bear  in  mind  that  the 
evolution  of  style  in  a virile  artist  goes  very  often  through 
the  zest  of  life  and  strength  to  patience  and  tender  emotion. 
This  evolution  is  found  in  the  work  of  Alphonse  Legros, 
above  all  in  his  noble  etchings ; and  there  is  evidence  al- 
ready that  Brangwyn  also  is  travelling  through  the  splendid 
verve  of  youth  towards  the  harbour  of  a gentler  method. 
There  is  a feeling  for  childhood  in  some  of  his  more  recent 
work,  as  in  “ Charity,”  that  could  not  have  been  foreseen 
when  his  “Buccaneers”  won  for  itself  a permanent  renown 
in  fickle  Paris.  But  I do  not  rejoice  over  that.  There  are 
scores  of  artists  in  England  who  can  paint  the  tenderer 
aspects  and  phases  of  human  life ; while  it  is  only  once  in 
a long  span  of  time  that  a Brangwyn  is  given  to  us  ; and 
I,  for  one,  hope  that  his  journey  away  from  the  lusty  man- 
hood of  strength  may  be  very  slow.  If  people  wish  to 
complain  because  oak  trees  are  not  weeping  willows ; if 
they  think  that  a Brangwyn  should  be  some  one  else,  they 
put  themselves  out  of  court  and  do  no  permanent  harm. 


CHAPTER  IX 


DECORATIVE  PAINTING — continued 

THERE  is  ever  an  urgent  old  sort  of  criticism 
that  prattles  about  art  in  its  relation  to  women, 
their  beauty,  clothed  and  unclothed ; and  no 
sooner  is  that  topic  started  than  the  old  Greek 
ideal  shines  forth,  because  it  is  accepted  by  all  cultivated 
people,  whereas  nature’s  ideas  of  female  beauty  are  not. 
Nature  is  said  to  create  hideous  women  in  a good  many 
parts  of  the  world,  yet  the  women  there  are  as  happy 
as  elsewhere,  and  their  men -folk  are  of  Dr.  Johnson’s 
opinion — feeling  miserable  when  single  and  doubtful 
when  married.  After  all,  beauty  is  a custom  of  the  eyes, 
and  it  is  infinitely  various. 

Here,  for  example,  is  the  photograph  of  a decorative 
panel  that  Brangwyn  painted  for  L’Art  Nouveau  in 
Paris,  now  about  sixteen  years  ago.  In  it  I see  two 
young  girls  from  some  land  of  the  sun ; they  are  in  the 
act  of  dancing  along  a glade  of  tall,  slender  trees,  a 
river  shimmering  behind  them,  while  a dusky  little  imp 
of  a lad — he  is  naked  to  the  waist  like  the  dancers — 
blows  into  a pipe  with  desperate  good  will,  as  if  tipping 
had  reached  that  country  without  making  it  a sadder 
place.  One  girl  is  a brunette,  the  other  is  darkly  fair; 
they  laugh  marvellously  and  dance  away  from  fatigue, 
scornful  of  everything  except  their  present  mirth  and 
132 


! Decorative  ‘Painting 

enjoyment.  Nothing  in  this  wide  world  would  turn  them 
into  suffragettes.  Yet  the  House  of  Commons  would  not 
receive  them  in  the  Ladies’  Gallery.  There  would  be 
complaints  about  their  beauty ; and  the  beauty,  I admit, 
is  not  British.  Still,  by  dint  of  looking  at  this  photo- 
graph I have  become  a native  of  their  sunny  land,  and 
I find  them  pretty,  and  gracious,  and  winsome.  I would 
vote  for  them  in  a beauty  show  of  modern  decorative 
painting. 

Brangwyn  did  a great  deal  of  work  for  the  fine  old 
turreted  house  in  the  Rue  de  Provence,  helping  Mr.  Bing 
to  transform  it  into  L’Art  Nouveau — a sort  of  palace  for 
modern  ideas.  Several  artists  had  a part  in  this  work, 
M.  Besnard  decorating  a room  in  the  turret,  and  Brangwyn 
designing  the  facade  (he  worked  in  conjunction  with  M. 
Louis  Bonnier,  architect),  painting  in  fresco  on  canvas 
two  large  panels  to  flank  the  entrance  (I  have  described 
one),  and  brushing  off  a frieze  more  than  sixty  yards 
long  for  the  street  elevation.  A part  of  the  frieze  was 
put  up  under  the  eaves  ; it  represented  Eastern  workmen 
plying  their  craft  of  pottery,  seated  in  characteristic 
attitudes.  Another  band  of  frieze  ran  below  the  windows 
of  the  top  floor,  and,  like  the  one  above,  it  was  carried 
round  both  sides  of  the  building.  Its  decorative  features 
were  a few  human  figures  connected  by  a design  of 
scroll-work  and  plant  forms.  Newspapers  spoke  well  of 
the  general  effect,  and  a great  many  persons  came  to 
see  it.  L’Art  Nouveau  was  launched,  and  Frank 
Brangwyn,  after  many  difficulties  of  bad  weather,  had 
completed  his  first  important  commissions  in  decorative 
art.  Eventually,  the  frieze  was  taken  down — probably 

i33 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  TVork 

because  the  weather  injured  it — and  sold  to  a French 
collector. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  the  two  panels  for  the  main 
entrance  were  movable,  being  painted  on  canvas  and 
then  fixed  up  structurally.  Brangwyn  is  in  favour  of 
this  method,  and  so  was  F.  Madox  Brown  after  his  long 
labours  in  the  Manchester  Town  Hall.  For  seven  of 
his  mural  paintings  Madox  Brown  used  spirit  fresco,  or 
what  we  in  England  claim  as  the  Gambier-Parry  system, 
that  consists  in  the  use  of  a few  pigments  made  from 
metal  oxides ; these  are  painted  over  a ground  prepared 
with  the  same  colour.  It  is  rather  a troublesome 
medium,  but  certainly  it  seems  to  be  less  perishable  in 
our  climate  than  the  water-glass  process,  a thing  at  one 
time  very  much  favoured  in  Germany,  but  now  in  bad 
repute  there.  It  was  in  water-glass  that  Daniel  Maclise 
carried  out  his  great  frescoes  in  the  galleries  of  the 
Blouses  of  Parliament — “The  Meeting  of  Wellington 
and  Blucher,”  and  “ The  Death  of  Nelson  ” — works  far 
and  away  better  than  his  easel-pictures.  Time  will  show 
their  stability,  but  we  should  remember  that  Madox  Brown 
and  Leighton  had  greater  confidence  in  the  Gambier-Parry 
process.  Then  a fresh  change  came  over  the  fortunes  of 
mural  art,  and  Madox  Brown  welcomed  it.  He  said  : — 

“ In  France,  the  mural  painters  have  now  taken  to 
painting  on  canvas,  which  is  afterwards  cemented — or 
what  the  French  call  maronflde — on  to  the  wall.  White- 
lead  and  oil,  with  a very  small  admixture  of  resin  melted 
in  oil,  are  the  ingredients  used.  It  is  laid  on  cold  and 
plentifully  on  the  wall  and  on  the  back  of  the  picture, 
and  the  painting  pressed  down  with  a cloth  or  handker- 
134 


Decorative  TPainting 

chief ; nothing  further  being  required,  saving  to  guard 
the  edges  of  the  canvas  from  curling  up  before  the 
white-lead  has  had  time  to  harden.  The  advantage  of 
this  process  of  cementing  lies  in  the  fact  that  with  each 
succeeding  year  it  must  become  harder  and  more  like 
stone  in  its  consistency.  The  canvases  may  be  pre- 
pared as  if  for  oil-painting,  and  painted  with  common 
oil-colours  flatted  (or  matted)  afterwards  by  gum-elemi 
and  spike-oil.  Or  the  canvas  may  be  prepared  with  the 
Gambier-Parry  colour  and  painted  in  that  very  mat 
medium.  The  canvases  should,  if  possible,  be  fine  in 
texture,  as  better  adapted  for  adhering  to  the  wall. 
Another  advantage  of  this  process  is  that,  should  at  any 
time,  through  neglect,  damp  invade  the  wall,  and  the 
canvas  show  a tendency  to  get  loose,  it  would  be  easy 
to  replace  it ; or  the  canvas  might  be  altogether  detached 
from  the  wall  and  strained  as  a picture.” 

Brangwyn  is  even  stronger  in  his  views,  believing 
that  for  certain  kinds  of  wall  decoration — and  notably 
for  overmantels  in  panelled  rooms — it  is  better  that  oil- 
colours  should  be  used  as  in  easel-pictures,  without  flat- 
ting their  surface  with  spike-oil  and  gum-elemi.  That  he 
is  right  is  proved  by  his  two  overmantels  at  Lloyd’s 
Registry,  where  the  rooms  are  solidly  panelled  with  oak, 
and  have  an  air  of  weight  and  power.  It  was  essential 
that  the  two  decorations,  when  framed  structurally,  should 
not  sink  behind  nor  seem  to  project  beyond  the  plane 
of  the  wainscot  panels  surrounding  them,  and  Brangwyn 
chose  for  his  scheme  of  colour  a sumptuous  effect,  kept 
broad  and  vigorously  simple.  The  result  could  not  well 
be  bettered.  One  decoration — it  is  smaller  than  the  other 

*35 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  W^ork 

— has  for  its  subject  “ Queen  Elizabeth  going  aboard  the 
Golden  Hind  at  Deptford.”  Her  Majesty’s  barge  of  state 
has  just  rowed  up  to  the  great  tall  ship,  that  looks  not 
unlike  a timber-house  of  that  period ; behind  is  a rolling 
and  tumbled  sky,  and  it  seems  filled  with  many  years 
of  English  weather.  To  paint  a sky  in  a wall  decoration 
is  never  easy,  because  it  may  recede  from  us  too  far  and 
be  too  naturalistic.  The  very  essence  of  pictorial  art  is 
distance,  while  the  very  essence  of  a mural  painting  is 
nearness ; it  must  be  part  and  parcel  of  the  wall’s  surface, 
not  a breach  in  a flat  and  solid  structure.  Brangwyn 
obeys  this  rule  with  great  tact ; even  his  clouds  complete 
a decoration  and  yet  look  airy  and  not  too  close  to  us. 
His  ships  also  are  very  good,  drawn  and  painted  with 
a hand  of  expert  seamanship.  They  rise  heavily  up 
from  the  sea,  and  seem  to  displace  that  weight  of  water 
that  is  necessary  to  their  safety  as  floating  hotels.  As 
to  the  second  picture,  it  holds  its  own  place  admirably 
above  a great  fireplace  where  many  rich  contrasts  of 
colour  meet  together : lustrous  tiles,  varied  marbles,  and 
a pediment  upheld  by  gilded  capitals.  The  subject  is 
“The  Return  of  Blake  after  Capturing  the  Plate  Ships.” 
As  a painting — I refer  you  to  the  colour-print — it  is 
treated  more  maturely  than  the  other,  its  style  being 
freer,  more  supple ; and  its  movement  of  industrial  life 
connects  it  with  the  large  Brangwyn  decoration  at  the 
Royal  Exchange. 

These  overmantels  were  presented  to  Lloyd’s  by  men 
who  take  a keen  delight  in  art  as  applied  to  the  orna- 
mentation of  city  places  of  business.  The  one  of  “ Blake’s 
Return”  was  commissioned  by  Sir  John  Davison  Milburn, 
136 


Decorative  Da  in  ting 

Bart.,  in  1907  ; while  the  other  was  a gift  to  Lloyd’s  from 
the  committee  of  the  General  Shipowners’  Society  in  1903. 
That  is  how  England  encourages  genius — at  second-hand, 
leaving  it  (as  a rule)  to  volunteer  support,  while  conferring 
knighthoods  by  the  score  on  those  who  pay  the  many 
pipers  in  political  life.  Why  should  not  a few  birthday 
honours  be  granted  every  year  to  art  for  public  build- 
ings? The  State  has  not  given  even  one  mural  painting 
to  the  Royal  Exchange,  and  we  do  not  find  among  the 
list  of  donors  any  of  the  most  national  names.  It  is  a 
pity.  The  ground  landlords  of  London  should  contribute 
to  the  public  art  of  London  buildings,  and  we  should 
gain  much  if  the  Crown  acted  personally  in  this  matter, 
as  did  George  III.  when  he  not  only  founded  the  Royal 
Academy  but  paid  its  debts  from  his  private  purse  until 
the  Society  no  longer  needed  his  help.  Lord  Leighton, 
remembering  his  position  both  as  President  of  the  Royal 
Academy  and  as  trustee  of  the  national  work  that 
George  III.  wished  to  do,  set  a fine  example  when  he 
gave  to  the  Royal  Exchange  his  mural  picture  of 
Phoenicians  trading  with  Early  Britons  on  the  coast  of 
Cornwall.  This  was  in  1895.  Fourteen  works  have  been 
presented  since  then  by  private  patrons  of  art,  but  nine 
great  spaces  have  yet  to  be  filled. 

It  is  unfortunate,  but  the  donors  are  more  important 
than  the  decorations.  They  have  done  their  work  com- 
pletely, while  only  three  or  four  of  the  painters  have 
understood  the  difference  between  a picture  and  a mural 
decoration.  Many  judges  complain  of  this  fact  with 
bitterness,  yet  there  is  no  need  here  for  criticism  to  be 
ill-tempered,  because  we  cannot  reasonably  expect  to 

i37 


Frank  Srangwyn  and  his  TFork 

evolve  in  a few  years  a school  of  masterly  fresco-workers. 
Such  achievements  as  the  Apartimenti  Borgia,  the  Stanzi 
of  Raphael,  the  Sistine  Chapel,  speak  to  us  not  only  of 
a popular  enthusiasm  for  ornamental  art,  but  of  technical 
methods  ripened  by  continued  practice  through  many 
generations.  Mural  painting  on  a large  scale  is  far  and 
away  more  difficult  than  the  art  of  making  framed 
pictures ; and  because  we  have  in  Frank  Brangwyn  an 
artist  who  cannot  help  being  decorative,  we  must  not 
generalise  from  a rare  case,  and  expect  all  easel-painters 
to  become  mural  decorators  by  the  mere  act  of  experi- 
menting in  a few  efforts  apiece.  But  there  are  several 
points  on  which  too  much  emphasis  cannot  be  laid  in 
this  matter  of  the  Royal  Exchange.  The  first  one  is 
the  fact  that  the  city  has  taken  these  decorations  quite 
seriously,  and  now  looks  upon  them  as  a standard  for 
all  future  efforts  in  applied  art.  This  wrong  notion  will 
take  root  in  the  conservatism  of  city  men,  and  will  then 
act  very  unfavourably  on  all  right  aims  in  decoration.  It 
is  English  to  make  a bad  beginning ; we  do  it  in  all 
wars,  we  do  it  in  all  new  public  works ; and  certainly 
we  cannot  afford  to  allow  these  tentative  efforts  at  the 
Royal  Exchange  to  misinstruct  the  public  on  questions 
of  fundamental  principle.  The  second  point  is  that  too 
many  painters  have  had  a hand  in  this  scheme  of 
decoration.  Fifteen  different  eyes  for  colour  and  fifteen 
varying  aims  do  not  give  us  unity — an  essential  thing 
in  all  ornamentation.  Not  more  than  two  painters  were 
necessary,  and  these  should  have  worked  together  in 
accordance  with  a definite  plan.  To  turn  a great  public 
promenade  into  a mere  picture  gallery  is  ridiculous.  Yet 
138 


‘Decorative  ‘Painting 


I am  able  to  state  that  the  Royal  Exchange  refused  a 
second  panel  from  a decorative  artist  of  the  highest 
standing,  because  the  authorities  did  not  want  two  works 
by  the  same  hand.  It  is  only  in  England  that  such 
an  absurd  refusal  could  be  made.  If  the  artist  had 
volunteered  to  paint  such  a gift  for  any  public  building 
on  the  Continent  or  in  America,  there  would  have  been 
much  rejoicing.1 

At  the  Royal  Exchange,  moreover,  a good  many 
peculiar  difficulties  have  to  be  overcome.  The  diffused 
light  in  the  ambulatory  is  dim,  so  that  each  painting 
ought  to  have  such  well-defined  forms  and  such  a scheme 
of  colours  as  will  suit  the  lighting ; and  each  artist  is 
called  upon  to  remember  that  all  pale  tints  will  blot  the 
design  and  be  far  more  prominent  than  darker  masses. 
Pale  tints,  again,  in  the  case  of  skies,  will  make  a hole 
in  the  wall  unless  great  care  be  taken.  Nor  are  these 
the  only  points  to  be  considered.  The  Royal  Exchange 
itself  is  a great  national  symbol  in  the  immense  life  of 
London,  and  imagination  demands  that  the  mural  paint- 
ings shall  be  heroic  in  scale  and  worthy  of  their  position. 
We  do  not  wish  to  see  in  any  decorative  painting  a 
great  flight  of  steps  with  a forlorn  little  man  lost  in  the 
middle  of  it.  Nelson  is  not  impressive  in  a position  of 
that  sort.  And  there  is  another  flight  of  waterside  steps 
at  the  Royal  Exchange  ; this  one  thronged  with  frightened 
women  and  children,  all  aglow  with  reflected  light  from 
burning  houses.  Is  this  a proper  theme  for  mural  decora- 


1 This  recalls  to  memory  the  fact  that  other  generous  offers  have  been  refused  by  the 
authorities  of  public  buildings  in  London.  G.  F.  Watts  offered  to  decorate  with  frescoes 
the  large  hall  at  Euston  Station,  but  the  London  and  North-Western  Railway  declined. 

139 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

tion?  Is  it  at  all  possible  to  represent  flames  on  a wall 
without  making  your  decoration  seem  like  a big  window 
through  which  a moving  scene  of  peril  is  distinctly 
seen  ? 

In  another  painting  a gateway  is  open  in  the  very 
middle  of  the  composition,  and  looking  through  it  we 
behold,  far  off,  a royal  carriage  waiting  for  Queen  Victoria. 
Could  anything  be  more  comical  ? Our  eyes  pierce  the 
wall  of  the  Royal  Exchange  and  see  something  outside. 
Even  Leighton  is  not  decorative  in  his  most  fortunate 
manner.  His  figures  are  not  heroic;  the  colour  is  rather 
lifeless ; and  the  design  shows  that  Leighton’s  respect  for 
the  solid  plane  of  the  wall’s  surface  was  too  anxious  and 
too  timid.  A line  of  male  heads  runs  across  the  painting 
horizontally,  and  it  is  made  more  noticeable  by  means  of  a 
beast’s  hide  that  a Briton  chieftain  holds  out  temptingly  to 
a disdainful  Phoenician.  Again,  wishing  to  blot  out  as 
much  of  the  sea  as  he  could,  lest  its  pale  colour  and  its 
movements  should  breach  the  wall’s  surface,  Leighton 
carried  a wide  length  of  drapery  across  from  the  Phoenicians 
to  the  British  women  on  our  left,  and  its  purple  tint  is  not 
to  my  eyes  a thing  of  beauty  and  a joy  for  ever.  I prefer 
the  two  Leighton  decorations  at  South  Kensington,  and 
particularly  the  one  representing  the  arts  of  war. 

Oh,  this  art  of  mural  painting  is  full  of  pitfalls ! The 
composition  of  an  opera  for  a troupe  of  jealous  singers  is 
not  more  troublesome.  It  is  what  the  French  call  a work 
of  long  breath,  and  what  we  may  describe  as  a long- 
distance run  in  art,  a Marathon  race  in  emotion  and 
disciplined  design.  Most  of  the  endeavours  of  our  Royal 
Exchange  are  patched  with  blunders,  arising  mainly  from 
140 


MODERN  COMMERCE. 

From  the  Fresco  in  the  Royal  Exchange , London. 


Decorative  Painting 

inexperience.  In  one  an  active  little  page-boy  stands  right 
outside  the  composition,  so  far  removed  is  he  from  the 
general  atmosphere  that  unites  all  the  other  characters. 
But,  as  a rule,  the  later  decorations  show  that  progress 
creeps  and  then  jumps  forward.  The  last  one  of  all  is 
the  most  masterly  as  a genuine  mural-painting. 

Yet  its  subject  is  not  only  the  most  difficult  to  manage 
in  an  appropriate  way ; it  is  also  least  likely  to  attract 
chance-comers.  To  realise  this  you  have  but  to  think  for  a 
moment  about  Modern  Commerce — a thing  world-wide  in 
its  adventures,  and  trafficking  with  so  many  commodities 
that  the  mind  knows  not  which  to  choose  as  the  more 
important  in  the  national  life  of  Great  Britain.  For  we  as 
a nation  have  fallen  into  the  perilous  position  of  owing 
nearly  all  our  food-stuff’s  to  seafaring  imports  from  distant 
and  foreign  orchards  and  farms.  There  is  a coming  tragedy 
in  that  one  fact.  No  economist  can  believe  that  a nation 
can  maintain  her  greatness  by  depending  on  foods  grown 
by  strangers  far  beyond  her  own  shores,  because  it  is  a 
fixed  law  of  nature  that  hunger  and  nutrition  must  be 
near  and  friendly  neighbours.  If,  again,  we  look  at  other 
phases  of  our  vast  commercial  enterprise,  and  consider 
those  imports  of  raw  stuffs  that  our  craftsfolk  turn  into 
manufactured  articles  for  export,  we  find  another  fact 
as  sinister  and  threatening  as  the  first,  since  in  this 
matter  also  we  get  life-blood  from  many  countries  over- 
seas that  may  veer  from  friendliness  into  enmity  at  any 
moment.  The  heart  of  Britain  throbs  in  the  engine-rooms 
of  her  battleships.  She  herself  is  defenceless,  nourished 
on  a diet  of  cosmopolitanism  in  the  necessaries  of  each 
day’s  labour  and  hunger. 

T4I 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

That  is  Modern  Commerce  as  applied  to  the  British 
Isles.  To  represent  it  in  a fresco  is  a task  that  very  few 
artists  would  dare  to  undertake.  It  cannot  be  symbolised 
by  any  combination  of  emblems  and  figures  without 
seeming  cold  and  tame ; and  if  you  take  any  single  incident 
from  its  many  thousands,  you  know  that  a whole  must  be 
greater  than  its  isolated  parts.  Face  to  face  with  all  these 
difficulties,  Brangwyn  looked  at  his  subject  from  the  stand- 
point of  its  vague  impressiveness  as  an  international  agent, 
and  then  made  up  his  mind  to  show,  within  the  scale  of  his 
wall  space,  such  types  of  action  as  would  connect  sea- 
coming produce  with  the  labour  and  the  life  of  Great 
Britain.  There  should  be  a great  bustling  dock,  but  not 
obviously  the  docks  of  London,  since  British  commerce 
must  not  be  anchored  in  any  port  day  after  day  through 
the  year.  The  atmosphere  should  be  quite  modern  and 
also  typical  of  British  weather  and  British  energy,  but  no 
detail  should  mark  and  give  prominence  to  the  present 
hour,  its  passing  inventions  and  its  ever-varying  costumes. 
A spirit  of  timelessness  would  give  this  work  the  chance  of 
being  a symbol  of  British  commerce  a hundred  years  hence 
as  it  is  to-day. 

These  points  decided,  he  threw  his  figures  upon  canvas 
in  a scale  that  appears  much  larger  than  life,  the  heroic 
scale  of  proportion  ; and  this  is  why,  painted  as  Brangwyn 
paints,  his  decoration  has  a certain  grim  majesty  of  design 
that  kills  its  pictorial  neighbours.  The  colour,  too,  is  rich 
and  massive ; it  seems  to  grip  the  masonry  of  the  wall,  to 
belong  to  the  structure  of  its  surface.  Even  the  sky  behind 
— a sky  with  its  piled-up  clouds  rising  in  a squadron 
between  perpendicular  lines  of  colour  that  indicate  huge 
142 


‘Decorative  ‘Painting 

cranes  and  other  mechanical  appliances — is  a happy  event 
in  decorative  treatment  and  effect.  There  are  workmen 
resting,  and  boys  at  ease  near  a great  tangle  of  golden 
bananas,  while  other  figures  are  in  full  action,  bending 
under  their  burdens  of  fruits  and  things.  It  is  not  perfect 
as  a composition,  but  who  else  could  have  solved  so  many 
difficulties  ? 


H3 


CHAPTER  X 


POINTS  OF  VIEW  IN  DECORATIVE  ART:  AND 
THE  SKINNERS’  HALL 

THE  movement  in  decorative  painting  has  fought  a 
stem  battle  during  the  last  fifteen  years.  Easel- 
painters  have  not  often  welcomed  it  because  it  has 
asked  them  to  start  out  on  a new  education,  to 
learn  the  principles  of  applied  art ; and  a good  many  critics 
have  refused  to  budge  from  their  long  submission  to  in- 
numerable shows  of  dainty  pictures.  Accustomed  to  this 
routine,  they  have  looked  upon  modern  decoration  as  an 
interloper  without  “refinement,”  without  “culture,”  and 
have  sneered  at  its  “ technique,”  writing  labyrinthine  de- 
finitions of  “refinement,”  “technique,”  and  “culture.” 
Verbal  fanaticism  is  always  perplexing,  and  I wish  to  give 
an  example  from  the  Spectator , May  25,  1895,  because 
it  tried  to  discredit  modern  decorative  art  by  attacking  a 
picture  by  Frank  Brangwyn.  The  picture  was  “ Rest,”  and 
the  Standard  had  praised  its  “ modern  sensitiveness  of 
technique,”  and  placed  it  “ in  the  vanguard  of  the  artistic 
forces  of  the  day.”  This  annoyed  the  Spectator , whose 
critic  happened  to  be  a young  pupil  to  the  principles  of 
French  Impressionism. 

“What  is  this  mysterious  affair,  technique?  It  is  not 
exactly  simple,  it  is  duplex ; but  no  mystery  if  we  do  not 
mix  it  with  the  process  of  seeing,  which  results  in  an 
144 


! Points  of  View  in  decorative  *Art 

image,  and  the  process  of  designing,  which  results  in  a 
picture,  but  neither  of  which  is  technique.” 

Think  over  that ! We  are  to  arrive  at  technique  with- 
out help  from  seeing  eyes,  though  blind  men  have  never 
been  noted  for  any  sort  of  facility  with  a brush.  Still, 
let  us  listen  again : “ Technique  is  the  last,  the  phy- 
sical 1 step  which  ends  each  of  these  processes,  each  of 
these  two  games  which  make  up  pictorial  imagination, 
and  which  the  painter  must  carry  on  side  by  side.” 
There  is  here  a restoration  of  sight ; the  blind  eyes  have 
been  cured,  and  the  critic  runs  on  into  new  difficulties. 
For  example : — 

“This  last  physical 1 step  on  the  decorative  or  designing 
side — the  side  that  allies  drawing  to  music,  to  dancing,  to 
abstract  pleasant  lines  and  patches — is  the  getting  of  a 
pleasant  consistency  and  surface  in  the  paint.  The  choice 
of  patterns  is  not  technique — that  is  design.  The  choice 
of  colours  is  not  technique — that  is  design.  Technique 
is  the  laying-on  with  the  hand  of  a good  coat  of  paint,  like 
a house-painter,  though  with  a variety  again  dictated  by 
the  sense  of  design.  This  side  of  technique  is  known 
as  quality.  It  is  the  physical 1 magic  that  makes  paint 
delightful  for  itself.” 

The  critic  rambles  on  into  some  confused  remarks  on 
“handling,”  and  at  last  he  tells  us  that  “we  are  now  in  a 
position  to  decide  between  good  and  bad  technique.  . . . 
The  newer  fashionable  examples  give  us  what  looks  like 
vigorous  handling,  dexterous  brush-work,  all  expressing 

1 Note  the  use  of  the  word  "physical,”  as  if  all  the  emotions  and  actions  of  mankind 
were  not  expressed  through  physical  agents — the  nerves,  the  brain,  facial  expression,  the 
hands,  and  so  forth. 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

nothing,  or  expressing,  by  painting  across  the  forms  ‘ dex- 
terously,’ the  exact  opposite  of  the  fact. 

“It  is  because  I find  more  of  this  than  of  sensitiveness 
in  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  picture  that  I cannot  agree  with  the 
critic  of  the  Standard.  . . .” 

Are  you  not  reminded  of  the  scientist  who  ripped  open 
a nightingale’s  throat  in  order  to  learn  why  the  bird  sang 
so  well?  It  is  certainly  injudicious  to  mystify  the  reading 
public  with  a long  and  scattered  definition  of  technique, 
for  expression  in  painting  depends  so  much  on  incal- 
culable things,  that  if  we  could  summon  a Parliament  of 
Dead  Painters  to  discuss  the  question  of  technique,  under 
the  speakership  of  Michael  Angelo,  the  debate  could  not 
tell  us  more  than  this : that  technique  is  a totality  of 
effect,  showing  how  a painter  feels  towards  a chosen  sub- 
ject ; sometimes  it  is  laboured  in  good  pictures  and  skilful 
in  bad  pictures,  but  it  speaks  to  us  always  of  the  painter’s 
gifts — his  temperament,  his  sense  of  colour,  his  changing 
moods,  his  aims  in  design,  his  emotional  skill  of  hand,  and 
his  qualities  of  brain.  Yes,  and  these  agents  of  expression 
are  more  or  less  influenced  by  school  traditions  and  by  the 
forces  of  current  life.  In  the  work  of  the  greatest  painters 
technique  has  the  quality  of  fine  velvets,  and  from  velvets 
it  descends  into  the  quality  of  inferior  materials,  ranging 
from  cheap  silks  to  shagreen  leather.  But  the  main  factor 
of  all  in  technique  is  temperament ; for  temperament  rules 
each  of  us,  and  it  can  never  give  out  more  than  Providence 
has  put  into  it.  Temperament  in  a man  of  genius  may 
be  compared  to  a cup  of  enchanted  wine ; the  cup  cannot 
be  changed  for  another,  and  its  wine  belongs  to  a vintage 
that  is  always  good  of  its  kind.  There  are  times  when 
146 


Points  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  Drt 

it  asks  us  to  cultivate  an  acquired  taste,  but  gourmets 
do  not  rail  at  it.  Only  gourmands  do  that.  Oest  a 
prendre  on  h laisser.  When  a critic  forgets  these  simple 
matters,  he  is  likely  also  to  forget  that  men  of  genius  rule 
over  their  own  realms  and  invite  us  to  be  peaceful  citizens 
there. 

As  a citizen  of  Brangwyn’s  kingdom  I am  appealing 
to  those  outside,  among  whom  I notice  several  types  of 
mind.  There  is  the  ordinary  layman  who  desires  a picture 
to  be  an  incident  from  a stage  play,  and  there  is  the 
practising  painter  who  gets  from  his  own  work  such  a 
small  amount  of  pleasure  that  he  spends  all  his  leisure 
time  in  writing  about  art.  This  hobby  is  bad  for  any 
painter  when  he  happens  to  be  displeased  with  himself. 
Envy  may  creep  unperceived  into  his  paragraphs,  and 
the  very  dogmatism  that  serves  an  artist  as  a sort  of 
life-belt  is  apt  to  keep  him  aloof  from  any  temperament 
and  ideals  differing  much  from  his  own.  For  example, 
if  you  have  a great  liking  for  the  decorative  art  of  Puvis 
de  Chavannes,  are  you  not  sometimes  tempted  to  believe 
that  the  style  of  Puvis  ought  to  be  the  criterion  of  modern 
taste  in  mural  painting?  It  is  well  known  that  personal 
sympathies  are  mistaken  very  often  for  sound  judgments. 
Lord  Morley  has  noted  this  in  literary  appreciations.  Pie 
says:  “A  man  remembers  that  a poem  in  one  style  has 
filled  him  with  consciousness  of  beauty  and  delight.  Why 
conclude  that  this  style  constitutes  the  one  access  to  the 
same  impression?”  Quite  so.  But  likes  and  dislikes 
are  truants  ; they  hate  to  go  to  school.  It  is  their  nature 
to  get  into  mischief.  People  who  are  very  fond  of  Puvis 
condemn  the  virile  modernity  of  Brangwyn,  and  those 

H7 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

who  are  devoted  to  Brangwyn  often  lose  touch  with  Puvis, 
who  tried  to  make  real  for  us  the  naive  spirit  of  the 
younger-hearted  times.  What  do  we  gain  when  criticism 
is  so  little  catholic? 

There  is  a very  sympathetic  type  of  artistic  expert  who 
tries  to  bring  his  subject  into  the  daily  thought  of  ordinary 
persons,  but  who  feels  very  acutely  the  influence  of  chang- 
ing moods.  Mr.  C.  Lewis  Hind  is  a critic  of  this  type. 
He  writes  very  well,  but  his  emotions  towards  Brangwyn 
change  in  the  most  protean  manner,  carrying  along  with 
him  his  many  readers.  In  the  Evening  News , March  23, 
1904,  he  proved  that  he  could  write  with  objective  sym- 
pathy from  within  Brangwyn’s  own  atmosphere  : — 

“ It  is  rash  to  prophesy,  but  I dare  assert  that  in  the 
twenty-first  century  Mr.  Brangwyn  will  be  reckoned  one  of 
the  chief  art  forces  of  our  time.  He  is  entirely  himself, 
bold  and  original,  and  his  work  has  the  decorative  quality, 
the  sense  of  pattern,  that  has  always  marked  the  masters. 

. . . Leaning  on  a chair  in  the  midst  of  the  Brangwyns 
was  an  engraving  ...  of  Rembrandt’s  ‘ The  Centurion 
Cornelius,’  one  of  those  profoundly  spiritual,  haunting 
Scripture  scenes  that  the  Dutchman  felt  so  strongly,  and 
feeling,  expressed  so  poignantly.  To  turn  from  this  to 
the  Brangwyns  was — well,  it  was  to  be  switched  from  a 
quiet  age  of  faith  and  unquestioning  belief  to  the  rushing 
and  outwardly  materialistic  twentieth  century.  But  Brang- 
wyn is  quite  right ! He  lives  in  his  own  age  ; he  draws 
his  inspiration  from  life,  not  from  books.  He  is  strong 
enough  to  be  himself,  and  therein  lies  his  power  to  impress 
you  and  me.  We  may  prefer  the  Rembrandt  tempera- 
ment ; but  Brangwyn  remains — a force.” 

148 


Joints  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  Vrt 

That  is  criticism,  objective  and  candid.  It  was  written 
before  Brangwyn  had  done  not  only  his  best  work,  but 
the  best  decorations  ever  painted  in  London,  and  Mr. 
Hind  was  invited  to  review  them  for  the  Evening  News , 
in  June  1910.  Perhaps  he  has  changed  his  address  since 
1904,  perhaps  he  now  feels  the  opinions  of  some  new  art 
circle,  for  he  is  now  as  far  distant  from  Brangwyn  as 
Charles  Lamb  was  from  Sir  Walter  Scott.  In  his  article 
Mr.  Hind  makes  a false  start : — 

“ The  other  evening  a group  of  artists  and  others  dis- 
cussed the  subject  of  ‘The  Something  More  in  Art.’  It 
was  decided,  or,  rather,  suggested  by  the  reader  of  the 
paper  that  ‘ the  something  more  ’ which  is  beyond  tech- 
nique, which  gives  a work  of  art  vitality,  and  makes  it 
endure  is — personality.  One  of  the  group  found  himself 
confused  between  personality  and  temperament,  where- 
upon a sculptor,  who  thinks  he  is  also  a literary  man, 
said  : ‘ Personality  is  spiritual,  temperament  is  physical ; 
personality  grows  from  and  expresses  the  innermost  ego — 
i.e.  the  soul ; temperament  is  of  the  body,  and  is  awakened 
by  the  senses  and  the  sensations  of  the  body.’”  This 
implies  that  personality  is  outside  the  life  of  man — out- 
side our  human  senses.  Does  Mr.  Hind  suppose  that  a 
creature  destitute  of  nerves — unable  to  taste,  to  smell,  to 
see,  to  feel — would  be  a spiritual  creature?  “Rightly  or 
wrongly,”  he  confesses,  “ I found  myself  troubled  by  this 
aesthetic  conflict,  personality  versus  temperament,  when  I 
visited  the  Skinners’  Hall  in  Dowgate  Hill  last  Tuesday 
to  see  the  eleven  frescoes,  or  panels  as  they  are  called, 
with  which  Mr.  Frank  Brangwyn  has  decorated  the 
banqueting-hall.  . . . Mr.  Brangwyn  has  an  interesting — 

149 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 


now,  am  I to  say  personality  or  temperament?  Abroad, 
he  is  treated  with  a respect  that  almost  amounts  to  venera- 
tion. At  home  he  has  his  admirers,  who  will  not  hear  a 
word  in  disfavour  of  his  great  gifts.  . . .” 

Not  from  a man  who  writes  in  a wrong  strain,  certainly. 
To  pick  holes  in  excellent  work  is  an  easy  pastime,  for 
beauty  and  blemish  go  hand  in  hand  ; and  to  talk  in  the 
air  about  temperament  and  personality,  copying  down 
in  all  seriousness  that  sculptor’s  comical  metaphysics,  is 
an  odd  way  indeed  to  begin  a newspaper  article  on  an 
artist  who,  whatever  his  natural  limitations  may  be,  is 
welcomed  in  all  countries  as  a man  of  genius.  Moreover, 
Mr.  Hind  passed  through  the  City  to  the  Skinners’  Hall — 
the  City  of  London,  the  greatest  battlefield  in  the  universal 
war  of  modern  trade ; he  knew,  also,  that  the  Skinners’ 
Company  had  contributed  since  its  foundation  to  the 
making  of  London  ; and  he  ought  also  to  have  known 
that  decorative  art  should  represent  the  spirit  of  its  time 
and  stand  out  as  a fitting  emblem  of  just  civic  pride  and 
national  power.  Yet  he  stood  in  the  banqueting-hall  and 
thought  out  a very  jejune  article,  in  which  he  would  appeal 
to  half  a million  readers.  I will  not  copy  out  the  whole 
of  his  remarks  ; two  brief  quotations  will  be  enough  for 
the  present : — 

“ It  is  perhaps  safer  to  suggest  that  on  the  walls  of  the 
Skinners’  Hall  Mr.  Brangwyn  gives  us  his  unclothed, 
clamorous  temperament,  not  his  clothed  and  cloistral 
personality.” 

“Think  what  has  been  done  in  the  wall-painting  way : 
think  of  Botticelli’s  two  Tornabuoni  frescoes,  now  on  the 
staircase  at  the  Louvre,  and  the  undying  message  of  grace 
1 5° 


‘Points  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  *Art 

and  loveliness  that  the  personality  of  Botticelli,  delicate  as 
a bed  of  wet  violets  in  the  springtime,  conveys  to  us.” 

How  pathetic ! Would  Mr.  Hind  sigh  for  the  “ Pilgrim’s 
Progress”  while  glancing  here  and  there  into  “The  Ring 
and  the  Book  ” ? Perhaps  Thomas  a Kempis  might  be  his 
ideal  while  he  read  “Othello”  or  “King  Lear,”  marvelling 
why  Shakespeare  could  have  been  so  foolish  as  to  show  his 
unclothed,  clamorous  temperament,  instead  of  a cloistral 
personality  as  delicate  as  a bed  of  wet  violets  in  the  spring- 
time. Myself,  I delight  in  the  “strong  men,”  as  Francois 
Millet  always  described  the  lusty,  virile  painters,  because 
the  greater  part  of  life  is  battle,  not  undying  messages  of 
grace  and  loveliness  from  beds  of  violets  ; and  as  to  the 
other  thing  in  art,  that  Mr.  Hind  seeks  in  sweetness  or  in 
dreamful  pathos,  it  is  a painter’s  moods,  and  the  moods 
are  bad  in  decorative  art  if  they  do  not  accord  with  their 
purpose  and  position.  In  his  mind’s  eye  Mr.  Hind  sees 
work  by  Botticelli  on  the  walls  of  a banqueting-hall  in  our 
modern  London.  He  seems  even  to  believe  that  Brangwyn 
by  some  means  should  exchange  his  own  temperament  for 
Botticelli’s.  Yet  Mr.  Hind  writes  for  the  Press,  influenc- 
ing half  a million  readers  in  a day. 

To  earn  bread  by  writing  about  the  work  of  other  men 
is  a privilege,  and  the  least  one  can  do  is  to  try  to  under- 
stand each  painter’s  intention  and  never  to  expect  from 
him  the  peculiar  gifts  of  some  other  man. 

This  being  so,  let  us  see  what  the  Skinners’  Company 
wished  to  do,  and  how  their  chosen  artist  has  fulfilled  his 
duty.  In  1902,  when  the  project  was  discussed  by  their 
Court,  strongly  advocated  by  Mr.  T.  L.  Devitt,  five  ideas 
probably  occurred  to  every  member  of  the  Company.  The 

1 5 1 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

decorations  might  represent  eleven  outstanding  events  from 
the  great  past  of  England,  or  eleven  such  events  from  the 
history  of  London ; they  might  show  the  adventures  of 
skins  from  the  hunter’s  success  onward  to  the  sale  of 
manufactured  articles ; and  then,  of  course,  there  were  two 
other  sets  of  themes — one  from  the  Company’s  long  career, 
the  other  from  those  trades  and  manufactures  that  now 
keep  Britain  in  the  fighting  line  of  the  world’s  industrial 
warfare.  To  an  artist  who  feels  with  intense  energy  the 
life  of  his  own  time,  the  last  choice  of  subjects  was  clearly 
the  best ; and  because  the  mainspring  of  art  is  eye-know- 
ledge gained  from  things  seen,  not  mind -knowledge 
acquired  from  things  read  in  books,  it  was  also  the  best 
set  of  subjects  considered  from  the  standpoint  of  living  art. 
But  the  Company  was  a private  one,  and  its  own  history 
appealed  to  its  members.  That  was  very  natural.  For 
the  history  was  a good  long  chapter  in  the  life  of  London 
since  1327.  City  Companies  in  the  past  were  as  helpful  to 
England  as  Universities;  indeed,  they  were  public  schools 
for  handicrafts  ; and  although,  as  time  went  by,  inevitable 
conflicts  arose  between  the  craftsman  who  worked  for  hire 
and  the  capitalist  who  invested  money  in  that  work,  the 
London  Companies  outlived  all  changes  of  fortune,  pass- 
ing from  trade  gilds  into  social  clubs,  famous  for  their 
good-fellowship  and  for  their  charities.  I am  not  aware 
that  they  were  ever  patrons  of  decorative  art  until  the 
Skinners’  Company  invited  Frank  Brangwyn  to  paint  from 
its  history  ten  or  eleven  subjects  which  had  been  chosen 
for  him. 

In  their  own  way  the  subjects  are  good,  and  in  keeping 
with  Bacon’s  definition  of  history  as  the  pomp  of  business. 

152 


Points  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  <Art 


The  perfume  of  wet  violets  does  not  come  from  them ; it 
is  virile  human  life  that  they  represent : — 

1.  Skin-merchants  selecting  Furs  and  Pelts  at  the  City 
Mart  in  the  Days  before  the  Guild  of  Corpus  Christi 
received  their  Charter. 

2.  The  granting  of  their  Charter  to  the  Skinner's’  Com- 
pany by  Edward  III.,  March  i,  1327. 

3.  A River  Procession  of  the  City’s  and  the  Companies’ 
Barges  to  Westminster,  a.d.  1453. 

4.  The  Opening  of  the  Strife  between  the  Skinners  and 
the  Merchant  Taylors,  a.d.  1484. 

5.  The  Founding  of  Tonbridge  School  by  Sir  Andrew 
Judd,  1553. 

6.  An  Incident  in  the  Defence  of  London  Bridge  by  Sir 
Andrew  Judd,  a.d.  1554. 

7.  A City  Pageant  in  Olden  Times. 

8.  The  Departure  of  Sir  James  Lancaster  for  the  East 
Indies,  a.d.  1594. 

9.  Reception  of  General  Monk  at  the  Skinners’  Hall, 
April  4th,  1660. 

10.  Sir  Thomas  Pilkington’s  Banquet  to  King  William 
the  Third  and  Queen  Mary,  a.d.  1684. 

11.  Harmony. 

It  was  a great  event  when  the  Skinners’  Court  decided 
upon  this  big  scheme  of  work,  and  there  was  much  rejoic- 
ing in  the  art  world,  though  painters  recognised  that 
tremendous  difficulties  would  have  to  be  encountered  and 
overcome.  Themes  from  the  annals  of  a private  company 
did  not  belong  to  that  part  of  England’s  story  which  is 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

generally  known,  so  their  realisation  in  decorative  art 
would  not  stir  in  chance-comers  any  associations  of  known 
events.  They  could  not  possibly  have  the  national  and 
popular  interest  that  enshrines  all  the  greatest  hours  in 
the  making  of  England.  Then  again,  the  subjects  would 
bring  in  questions  of  costume,  of  archaeology,  many  and 
various  questions,  which  might  clog  and  weaken  mural 
painting  as  they  have  weakened  and  clogged  Shakespearian 
acting.  These  and  other  fears  were  expressed  by  artists ; 
but  one  and  all  admitted  that  the  Skinners’  Company  had 
taken  a step  that  would  add  permanently  to  the  value  of 
modern  art. 

Brangwyn  entered  upon  his  work  with  knowledge  of 
the  difficulties  to  be  faced,  and  he  had  also  to  consider  the 
building  in  which  his  decorations  would  be  put ; a banquet- 
ing-hall  of  brown  oak,  with  a top  or  roof  light,  the  wood- 
work enriched  with  gilding,  and  the  walls  divided  by 
pilasters  having  a projection  of  perhaps  one-third  of  their 
breadth.  The  decorations  were  to  be  placed  as  a sort  of 
frieze  above  the  deep-brown  wainscot,  where  the  pilaster- 
like projections  formed  five  recessed  panels  on  each  side, 
two  uprights,  and  three  large  oblongs  having  a good 
breadth.  At  the  entrance  end  was  a music  gallery  with 
wall-space  for  another  decoration.  Across  the  hall  was  a 
window  of  stained  glass. 

The  dominant  notes  of  colour  were  the  brown  oak  and 
the  gilding.  Mr.  Hind  thinks  that  the  hue  of  the  panelled 
walls  should  have  been  taken  as  the  leit-motif  of  the  colour- 
scheme,  making  the  paintings  above  and  the  woodwork 
beneath  entirely  congruous  from  the  first  day.  But  this 
error  is  not  made  in  London  by  decorative  artists  who 
H4 


Joints  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  *Art 

know  their  business.  In  our  London  atmosphere  painted 
colours  change  so  rapidly,  growing  deeper  in  tone,  that 
the  earliest  decoration  at  the  Skinners’  Hall  has  already 
matured.  Indeed,  in  this  one  work  the  painter  made 
scarcely  enough  allowance  for  the  fact  that  his  work  would 
pass  through  the  alembic  of  time.  He  paid  a little  too 
much  deference  to  the  leit-motif  of  brown  oak.  Afterwards 
he  worked  in  higher  keys  of  colour,  so  that  the  alchemy 
of  air  acting  on  them  year  after  year  might  mellow  them 
gradually  into  a new  richness  foreseen  by  him. 

But  questions  of  colour  in  their  relation  to  acquired 
tone  were  not  the  only  technical  matters  needing  care  and 
forethought.  The  decorations  would  be  skied — put  in 
positions  high  above  the  line  of  sight,  and  this  was  very 
important,  because  the  panels,  though  big,  were  not  large 
enough  to  justify  the  use  of  a heroic  scale  in  the  figures. 
Thus  the  carrying  power  of  each  composition  would 
depend,  not  upon  figures  considerably  taller  than  life,  but 
upon  the  art  displayed  in  the  massed  patterning  of  colour. 
Further,  as  the  subjects  were  not  of  a kind  that  appealed 
by  their  familiar  historical  interest  to  every  one,  it  would  be 
well  to  aim  with  infinite  care  at  beauty  in  splendid  colour 
and  at  magnificence  in  active  life.  These  qualities  were 
suggested  by  ten  themes,  and  their  presentation  would 
be  a fitting  symbol  of  the  immense  pageantry  of  events 
that  England  has  witnessed  in  her  achievements. 

The  painter  has  won  a noble  success,  but  he  is  not 
satisfied  himself,  because  all  true  work  is  but  the  training 
for  a long  race  that  never  seems  to  be  run.  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds  felt  this  with  a sort  of  tragic  pathos,  and  he  said  : 
“ The  beauty  of  which  we  are  in  quest  is  general  and  in- 

155 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

tellectual ; it  is  an  idea  that  subsists  only  in  the  mind  : the 
sight  never  beheld  it,  nor  has  the  hand  expressed  it : it  is  an 
idea  residing  in  the  breast  of  the  artist,  which  he  is  always 
labouring  to  impart,  and  which  he  dies  at  last  without 
imparting,  but  which  he  is  yet  so  far  able  to  communicate 
as  to  raise  the  thoughts  and  extend  the  views  of  the  spec- 
tator.” That  is  all  true ; but,  unfortunately,  spectators  do 
not  often  respond  to  it  until  its  originality  has  grown 
familiar.  And  those  painters  whose  ideals  of  beauty  are 
not  sweetness  and  pathos  but  health  and  vigour  and  action 
suffer  the  most,  first  because  great  depression  follows  their 
spates  of  emotion,  and  next  because  the  public  is  more 
easily  moved  by  gentle  and  pathetic  beauty  than  by  an  art 
full  of  manhood  and  triumphing  enterprise.  Gentleness 
and  pathos  are  known  as  “ soul,”  and  they  help  writers 
to  make  pretty  copy  about  wet  violets  in  the  springtime 
and  undying  messages  of  grace  and  loveliness. 

Even  Mr.  Hind  admits  that  there  is  a triumph  of  life 
in  Brangwyn’s  art.  He  says,  “ In  pomp,  splendour,  and 
in  the  suggestion  of  pagan  and  pageant-unfolding  episodes 
in  the  history  of  the  Worshipful  Company  of  Skinners, 
they  are  magnificent.”  But  he  yearns  for  “ soul,”  that  is 
to  say,  for  messages  of  grace  and  wet  violets,  and  he 
finds  “soul”  in  a fresco  by  Puvis  de  Chavannes,  in  the 
Pantheon,  representing  St.  Genevieve  in  the  moonlight 
watching  and  praying  over  Paris.  We  are  not  told  what 
St.  Gendvieve  has  to  do  with  the  subjects  chosen  for 
Brangwyn.  But  it  seems  clear  enough  that  Mr.  Hind  is  a 
primitive  in  his  preferences  for  art ; the  years  dead  and 
gone  live  for  him  in  naive  pictures  filled  with  a cloistral 
faith  ; and  in  Puvis  he  finds  a kindred  temperament,  while 
156 


! Points  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  Art 

in  Brangwyn  he  is  oppressed  by  what  he  calls  a “ bois- 
terously beautiful  and  roysterously  crowded  vision.” 
Brangwyn  belongs  to  his  own  time,  while  Puvis  de 
Chavannes  thought  more  of  the  long  ago,  and  if  we 
compare  the  two  we  put  ourselves  out  of  court.  Each 
stands  alone,  and  those  who  understand  art  feel  the  noble 
qualities  within  the  limitations  of  each. 

For  the  rest,  there  is  a distinct  evolution  of  style  in  the 
panels  at  the  Skinners’  Hall.  In  the  first  one  painted — 
“ Departure  of  Sir  James  Lancaster  for  the  East  Indies, 
a.d.  1594” — we  feel  the  influence  of  Venice,  and  particularly 
of  Veronese.  There  is  an  artifice  of  lighting,  as  well  as 
an  elaboration  of  studied  design,  that  differs  from  modern 
work  ; and  it  is  certain  also  that  the  first  step  being  very 
difficult,  the  painter  was  anxious,  so  he  lingered  too  long 
over  several  minor  parts.  One  of  the  foreground  figures 
is  a seated  man  with  his  nude  back  turned  towards  the 
spectator,  and  the  back  might  be  simpler  in  its  modelling ; 
it  draws  attention  from  the  principal  group  above,  where 
Lancaster — a darkling  figure — is  admirably  placed  in  his 
relation  to  a background  of  tall  ships  and  of  cumulus 
clouds,  all  treated  with  great  skill,  for  the  solid  plane  of 
the  wall  is  nowhere  breached  by  the  perspective.  In 
quality  the  paint  is  good  throughout,  and  no  pedantry  is 
shown  in  the  costumes.  These  mark  a definite  period 
without  asking  us  to  think  more  about  them  than  about 
the  painting  as  a whole. 

\\  hen  this  panel  was  hung  at  the  Royal  Academy  in 
1904,  it  made  as  much  disturbance  as  a whale  would  make 
in  a river  full  of  trout  and  perch.  I have  by  my  side  several 
newspapers  that  decline  to  believe  that  art  is  justified  of 

V7 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  TFork 

her  children.  With  facile  largeness  of  censure,  they  sneer 
at  the  big  intruder,  though  the  hanging  committee  had 
put  it  up  high  on  the  centre  wall  of  the  third  room.  Some 
other  notices,  while  admitting  with  enthusiasm  the 
great  and  rare  merits  displayed,  fell  into  the  error  of  sup- 
posing that  decorative  art  must  be  flat,  tame,  and  conven- 
tional, not  ornamental  in  a living  way.  This  mistake 
arises  from  a supposition  that  because  decorations  must 
never  make  holes  in  a wall,  therefore  the  structural  con- 
ception of  the  whole  work  must  be  artificial  in  all  its  planes. 
As  well  might  we  argue  that  because  a stage  drama  is 
subject  to  the  restraints  of  a stage  setting  which  can  never 
be  real,  therefore  the  drama  among  its  characters  must  be 
formal  and  artificial,  never  showing  how  variously  human 
nature  wrestles  with  circumstance,  that  outward  destiny, 
or  is  swayed  by  temperament,  that  inward  ruler  oscillating 
between  peace  and  war.  To  keep  life  from  mural  painting 
is  to  produce  a dead  art,  demanding  infinite  faith  from 
spectators.  From  among  the  notices  I choose  one  from 
the  Speaker ; it  has  not  the  excess  of  praise  of  some 
admirers,  and  it  illustrates  temperately  the  point  now 
under  consideration : — 

“Of  Mr.  Brangwyn  as  a colourist  there  might  be  many 
things  said.  But  the  principal  fact  about  his  colour  power 
appears  to  me  to  be  that  he  has  gauged  exactly  the  enor- 
mous value  of  blue  as  a factor  in  building  up  a rich  and 
colourful  composition  ; that  he  has,  in  a word,  taken  up 
the  parable  of  the  great  Venetian  painters  at  the  point 
where  they  left  it.  Not,  indeed,  that  the  blue  in  the  “ De- 
parture of  Lancaster  for  the  East  Indies”  is  an  all-assertive 
influence,  for  it  is  confined  in  the  main  to  a patch  of  wine- 
158 


‘Points  of  View  in  Ptecorative  zArt 

dark  sea  in  the  centre,  and  in  that  part  of  the  sky  which 
is  not  obscured  by  rolling  cumuli.  Yet  what  an  amount 
of  power  does  it  not  give  to  the  glowing  golden  reds,  the 
luminous  browns,  the  luscious  chocolate,  in  this  work, 
by  virtue  of  its  adequate  use  and  exquisite  management? 
The  whole  panel  is  alive  with  colour  from  the  scarlet  robe 
of  the  dominant  figure  on  the  right  to  the  dusky  Oriental 
in  shadow  on  the  left,  from  the  sun-tinged  sails  of  the 
barque  beyond  to  the  bunch  of  carrots  and  turnips  in  the 
immediate  foreground  ; alive,  too,  with  strong  light  and 
shade  and  the  sense  of  crowded  humanity  and  the  vigour 
of  individual  form.  In  the  last  respect  the  artist  goes 
beyond  the  strictest  limits  of  decoration  ; his  figures,  dis- 
posed as  they  are  in  masses  of  colour,  are  sculptural,  not 
flat ; there  is  a solidity  about  them  that  leaves  no  doubt 
as  to  their  actuality,  and  suggests  the  potent  influence  of 
the  modern  realistic  spirit  on  this  most  modern  of  English 
decorators.  Whether  this  influence  would  be  healthy  in 
the  majority  of  cases  one  may  doubt.  One  can  well  imagine 
an  imitator  of  Mr.  Brangwyn  aiming  at  similar  ends,  and, 
whilst  striving  to  combine  decorative  symmetry  with  pro- 
nounced colour  and  form  of  this  nature,  succeeding  only 
in  giving  one  a distressing  lumpishness.  With  the  average 
artist  the  chances  would  be  mostly  in  favour  of  his  losing 
the  decorative  idea  in  the  realistic,  or  producing  a mixture 
of  both  that  would  be  merely  chaotic.  Mr.  Brangwyn, 
however,  is  not  the  average  artist,  and  his  work  cannot  be 
judged  by  elementary  canons  of  decoration,  however  long 
established.  The  undoubted  success,  from  the  decoiative 
standpoint,  of  his  ‘ Departure  of  Lancaster  ’ proves  this, 
if  nothing  else.” 


1 59 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

We  naturally  wish  to  know  whence  the  writer  got 
his  elementary  canons  of  decoration.  From  faded  frescoes 
by  the  Primitive  Italians,  or  from  Rubens?  From  Man- 
tegna and  Michael  Angelo,  or  from  the  Panthdon  at  Paris? 
Thank  goodness,  art  in  all  its  just  forms  has  infinite 
variety,  for  it  is  “ la  nature  z me  a traz)ers  un  temperament .” 

The  first  panel  finished,  Brangwyn  felt  at  ease  in  his 
work,  so  he  passed  from  Venetian  influences,  and  painted 
with  greater  freedom,  giving  a more  even  circulation  of 
light  and  a more  fluent  rhythm  to  his  handling.  The 
most  sumptuous  panel  of  all  is,  I believe,  a “ City  Pageant 
in  Olden  Days,”  an  enchanted  vision,  splendidly  tumultuous, 
yet  ordered  in  a masterful  way.  It  contrasts  admirably 
with  the  fourth  panel,  that  represents  the  strife  between 
the  Skinners  and  Merchant  Taylors.  The  sentiment  here 
is  akin  to  that  of  Shakespearian  crowds,  ample,  rude,  and 
full-blooded.  One  thinks  of  the  opening  scene  in  “ Romeo 
and  Juliet,”  with  the  rival  factions  of  Montague  and  Capulet ; 
only,  the  mediaeval  Londoners  pass  less  rapidly  from  words 
to  blows.  But  these  paintings  must  be  seen  to  be  enjoyed. 
It  is  quite  impossible  to  describe  their  distinguishing  char- 
acteristics, because  words  cannot  do  justice  to  qualities  of 
design  or  to  harmonies  of  colour.1  In  large  photographs 
the  decorations  are  very  attractive,  showing  that  every  one 
was  designed  not  only  with  infinite  skill  and  vigour,  but 
with  something  of  the  true  classic  spirit.  And  each  com- 
position has,  above  all,  the  authoritative  quality  of  style. 

How  grateful  we  should  be  to  the  man  who  in  these 

1 The  illustrations  give  two  of  the  panels,  but  although  the  greatest  care  has  been 
given  to  both,  the  results  are  not  what  we  should  like  them  to  be,  for  large  paintings 
lose  life  and  charm  in  little  reproductions. 

160 


‘ 'Points  of  View  in  T)ecorative  *Art 

days  has  power  to  conceive  and  bring  to  completion  a fine 
series  of  decorative  pictures,  revealing  such  a breadth  of 
vision,  such  a lyrical  swing  in  design,  such  a superb  virility 
in  handling,  as  will  ever  be  remarkable  in  the  history  of 
British  art.  I am  aware  that  here,  as  in  all  work,  beauties 
are  neighboured  by  blemishes ; but  I know,  too,  that 
Brangwyn  is  still  evolving,  and  that  no  man  of  genius  has 
ever  yet  been  helped  by  the  pin-pricks  of  a nagging  criti- 
cism, that  jabs  and  probes  into  inevitable  imperfections. 
It  has  been  my  duty  to  read  many  thousands  of  notices  on 
Brangwyn’s  art,  and  I can  say  without  exaggeration  that 
I have  come  upon  very  few  having  the  value  of  those  hints 
that  one  friendly  painter  gives  to  another.1  What  Goethe 
said  of  criticism  is  quite  true  : it  has  not  even  a negative 
value,  for  if  a man  of  genius  throughout  life  were  to  follow 
the  differing  opinions  of  any  fifty  persons,  he  might  waste 
fifty  years  and  more  on  one  large  picture,  blotting  it  out  a 
thousand  times  in  defiance  of  his  judgment.  Criticism, 
then,  is  useless,  except  in  matters  which  can  be  verified  as 
facts ; and  that  is  why  a writer  should  review  only  those 
forms  of  art  that  attract  him  greatly.  His  enthusiasm  may 
then  do  good,  for  he  will  not  try  to  be  anything  more  than 

1 Mr.  George  Moore  has  written  well  on  this  subject.  “ Every  twenty  years  tells  the 
tale  of  a new  victim,  of  an  artist  whose  originality  affronts  public  taste  ; and  so  unvarying 
are  the  expressions  used  by  the  critics  who  voice  public  displeasure  in  the  newspapers, 
that  it  would  almost  seem  to  be  possible  to  divine  the  new  genius  in  their  writings,  if  per- 
sonal knowledge  of  his  works  were  inaccessible.  For  these  critics  invariably  find  his 
pictures  ugly — ugly  is  their  favourite  adjective— or  they  declare  them  to  be  crude,  and 
lacking  in  refinement ; his  figures  do  not  look  as  if  you  could  walk  round  them,  nor  do  his 
landscapes  suggest  places  where  they  would  like  to  be.  . . . It  is  difficult  to  say  whether 
works  of  genius  are  disliked  more  by  critics  or  the  general  public,  nor  have  we  any 
means  of  knowing  how  far  picture-buyers  are  led  by  what  is  printed  in  the  papers.  Pro- 
bably not  very  much,  for  only  on  the  rarest  occasions  have  I been  able  to  persuade  my 
intimate  friends  to  purchase  pictures  which  they  disliked.” 

X 


1 6 1 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  hFork 

a loyal  interpreter  between  men  of  genius  and  the  people. 
Above  all,  he  will  never  forget  that  artists  should  pursue 
their  own  reasoned  course  without  being  affected  by  outside 
praise  and  censure. 

Brangwyn  has  been  baited,  as  Meunier  and  Millet 
were  baited,  but,  happily,  he  has  been  as  steadfast  as 
they  were,  and  his  contributions  to  the  democratic  art 
that  they  loved  are  glorious  in  colour  and  romantic  in 
splendid  vision  and  power.  Little  by  little  he  has  passed 
away  from  dangers  that  beset  all  men  who  paint  with  a 
great  natural  facility.  The  late  Jean  Portaels  once  said 
to  me : “ Born  painters  and  colourists  should  always 
draw  in  monochrome  paint,  dwelling  insistently  on  the 
sculptural  side  of  form,  because  a natural  fluency  with 
the  brush  is  an  enemy  to  a planned  method  in  draughts- 
manship. It  is  a sort  of  eloquence  that  says  too  much ; 
it  needs  a self-denying  economy.”  Not  only  is  this  true, 
but  Brangwyn  has  shown  in  his  recent  advance  that 
he  holds  the  same  views.  His  first  etchings  date 
from  about  the  same  year  as  his  commission  from  the 
Skinners’  Company,  and  there  is  no  sterner  discipline 
than  that  of  the  etcher’s  needle.  We  find,  too,  not  only 
in  the  work  at  the  Skinners’  Hall,  but  in  recent  easel- 
pictures,  that  he  is  gaining  a much  firmer  hold  on  his 
impetuous  vitality.  If,  for  example,  you  compare  the 
picture  “ Wine  ” with  an  earlier  work  of  the  same  type — 
“The  Blood  of  the  Grape,”  painted  in  1896 — you  will  be 
surprised  by  the  growth  of  self-control  in  a style  that 
pulsates  with  nervous  animation.  Equally  remarkable 
and  admirable  was  the  “Wine  Shop”  of  1906,  a Brangwyn 
of  Brangwyns,  a real  masterpiece,  painted  at  the  age  of 
162 


Joints  of  View  in  ‘Decorative  <Art 

thirty-nine.  Mr.  Claude  Phillips  has  written  the  best 
analysis  of  its  qualities  : — 

“ Mr.  Frank  Brangwyn  has  never  yet  produced  any- 
thing which  so  truly  deserves  to  be  described  as  masterly 
as  this  superb  ‘ Wine  Shop.’  We  must,  of  course,  take 
him  as  he  is,  and  abstain  from  exacting  precisely  what 
he  cannot  and  will  not  give.  His  vision,  his  execution, 
are  absolutely  his  own.  Though  a naturalist,  he  is  not 
in  the  narrower  sense  a realist ; or,  at  the  most,  he  is 
a decorative  and  romantic  realist.  In  these  powerful 
heads  of  wine-sellers,  painted  with  magnificent  breadth  of 
brush,  so  as  to  dominate  even  the  tremendously  forceful 
representation  of  the  pumpkins  and  other  gigantic  vege- 
tables which  make  so  picturesque  a foreground,  there  is 
no  doubt  something  of  Velazquez,  and  something,  too, 
of  Manet.  Yet  the  picture  as  a whole  is  essentially  Mr. 
Brangwyn’s  own,  and  such  as — precisely  in  this  way — no 
other  artist  among  his  contemporaries,  whether  British  or 
foreign,  could  have  painted.” — Daily  Telegraph , April  21, 
1906. 

I do  not  myself  see  the  influence  of  Manet,  but  art- 
criticism  is  a record  of  differing  impressions  received 
from  the  same  work.  French  writers  find  that  Brangwyn 
is  a kinsman  of  certain  French  painters,  while  Italian 
writers  associate  his  name  with  various  Italian  masters, 
like  Domenichino  and  Veronese.  The  aim  in  each  case, 
no  doubt,  is  to  suggest  some  quality  in  Brangwyn  that 
cannot  be  described  in  words. 


CHAPTER  XI 


SKETCHES  AND  STUDIES 

TO  know  an  artist  we  must  understand  his  studies 
and  sketches,  for  in  these  we  see  and  feel  the  first 
rush  of  inspiration  as  well  as  the  after-thoughts 
of  self-criticism.  There  is  ever  a conflict  be- 
tween an  artist  and  his  materials,  between  the  emotions 
that  create  and  the  limits  set  to  creation  by  tools  and 
pigments  and  practical  considerations  ; and  it  is  only  in 
the  preliminaries  of  a painter’s  art,  in  studies,  in  sketches, 
that  we  are  able  to  watch  the  battle,  following  its  fortunes 
from  the  first  impulsive  hints  of  a new  subject  given  in 
a few  rapid  lines,  onward  to  drawings  from  the  life  for 
separate  figures.  Then  there  are  pochardes — impressions 
in  colour  of  things  seen,  the  snapshots  of  art,  invaluable 
as  documentary  evidence  of  a painter’s  temperament,  his 
instantaneous  feeling  and  his  ways  of  work.  All  these 
things  belong  to  the  psychology  of  invention,  to  the 
workshop  of  that  spiritual  power  known  as  talent  or  as 
genius.  Some  painters  of  note  have  been  unable  to 
sketch  well,  like  Puvis  de  Chavannes ; they  look  trivial 
in  their  experimental  efforts,  reminding  us  of  that  type 
of  general  who  needs  a full-dress  uniform  before  he 
carries  with  him  an  air  of  authority.  Other  painters — 
and  even  a famous  writer  here  and  there,  like  Victor 
Hugo — command  attention  with  half-a-dozen  lines  hur- 

164 


MUSIC. 

From  an  Original  Lithograph . 


Sketches  and  Studies 


riedly  drawn  with  pen  or  pencil.  They  are  artists 
through  and  through,  and  cannot  touch  paper  without 
displaying  their  natural  greatness  of  spirit.  The  merest 
fragment  by  a Turner  or  a Cotman  is  a joy  to  any  person 
who  feels  at  home  in  the  aesthetic  factory  of  emotion. 

There  was  a time  when  many  used  to  say  of  Brangwyn 
that  he  could  not  draw,  that  he  painted  large  pictures 
without  sufficient  preparation,  but  they  took  care  not  to 
tell  us  what  merits  they  expected  to  find  in  good  drawing, 
nor  did  they  confess  that  they  were  unacquainted  with 
his  ways  of  work.  They  were  right  in  one  respect  only ; 
in  certain  of  his  pictures  Brangwyn  did  not  draw  well, 
but  you  judge  an  artist  by  his  good  flights,  not  by  his 
falls,  I hope.  Of  course,  if  you  like  that  kind  of  im- 
peccable draughtsmanship  that  seems  to  have  the  mechan- 
ism of  a musical-box,  being  quite  accurate,  but  without 
temperament  and  passion,  then  typical  studies  and 
sketches  by  Frank  Brangwyn  will  leave  you  cold,  for 
every  line  that  he  draws — draws,  that  is  to  say,  in  a 
fortunate  mood — vibrates  with  life.  Mr.  Arthur  Layard, 
writing  in  1900,  said  with  truth  that  the  distinguishing 
characteristic  of  Brangwyn’s  drawing — the  key  of  his  art 
— is  to  be  found  in  a robust  liberty  of  design  tempered  by 
an  austere  self-restraint.  His  impetuous  ardour  is  usually 
obedient  to  discipline,  like  that  of  a Highland  soldier  in 
the  heat  and  stress  of  an  advance  against  the  enemy. 
The  notion,  still  common  in  England,  that  good  draughts- 
manship laboriously  copies  the  outlines  of  things  observed 
and  then  adds  delicate  and  pretty  shading,  is,  of  course, 
ridiculous,  because  photography  along  those  lines  can  do 
a great  deal  more  than  the  human  hand.  It  is  life  with 

165 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

personality  that  counts  in  studies  and  sketches,  and  each 
line  must  have  a quality  of  touch  that  no  other  man 
could  give.  A born  draughtsman  writes  his  signature 
in  every  line.  Fine  sketching  should  owe  no  help  to 
borrowed  tricks,  to  a knack  acquired  by  trying  to  draw 
like  the  Old  Masters.  Several  painters  in  London  at  the 
present  time  are  developing  mannerisms  tof  this  affected 
kind,  as  if  they  had  studied  all  the  chalk  drawings  in  the 
print-rooms  of  Europe ; but  they  stop  always  at  the  same 
place,  with  the  sleight-of-hand  peculiar  to  receptive  students. 

Foreigners  remark  this  fact  more  keenly  than  we  do, 
because  they  live  outside  our  little  artistic  sets,  each  one 
of  which  is  apt  to  become  a society  for  mutual  admiration. 
They  see  our  exhibitions  and  say:  “Yes,  you  have  a 
good  many  young  painters  who  are  clever  students,  but 
that  counts  for  nothing  in  these  days.  Schools  on  the 
Continent  produce  scores  of  brilliant  students  who  never 
do  anything  great  as  practising  artists.  London  expects 
to  surprise  us  into  admiration  by  displaying  much  art 
work  that  has  no  breadth  of  inspiration.  We  still  prefer 
Brangwyn,  because  he  has  created  a type  in  art,  because 
he  seldom  draws  a line  without  showing  that  he  is  a strong 
man  of  original  distinction.” 

This  does  not  mean  that  Brangwyn  is  without  fault. 
No  man  ever  is  in  all  his  varying  moods,  and  Brangwyn 
may  be  placed  in  the  same  category  of  imperative  crafts- 
men as  Carlyle  and  Browning.  It  is  the  easiest  thing 
in  the  world  to  pick  holes  in  Browning  and  Carlyle ; to 
resist  that  commonplace  temptation  in  order  to  concentrate 
on  their  merits  may  be  a little  difficult  at  times,  but  it 
is  always  worth  while,  for  these  virile  artists  have  infinite 
1 66 


Sketches  and  Studies 


strength  to  impart,  and  why  should  we  not  accept  them 
as  we  do  imperfect  hills  that  we  cannot  climb  with  ease? 
If  there  are  bursts  of  metrical  chaos  in  Browning  and 
many  verbal  perversities,  so  in  Brangwyn  you  will  find 
here  and  there  perversities  of  another  kind,  occasional 
errors  of  judgment  in  his  choice  of  models,  for  example ; 
but  let  us  never  point  out  a shortcoming  in  one  person 
of  genius  without  thinking  of  those  in  his  equals.  One 
characteristic — I do  not  call  it  a fault — becomes  plain  to 
any  one  who  examines  with  sympathy  Brangwyn’s  sketches 
and  studies ; it  is  his  growing  sense  of  drama  in  the 
colossal  engines  and  factories  built  to-day  by  little  men. 
He  sees  man  dwarfed  by  man-constructed  things ; sees 
human  nature  overawed  by  inventions  of  a mechanical 
sort,  created  by  a few  rare  minds  and  carried  out  by 
millions  of  commonplace  hands,  almost  automatically ; 
and  although  his  attitude  to  toil  is  like  that  of  a sports- 
man to  games  involving  danger,  there  is  yet  at  times 
a tendency  to  make  factories  and  machines  the  main 
subjects  of  interest. 

Let  us  consider  this  point  still  further.  The  most 
remarkable  thing  of  the  present  time  is  the  fact  that  we  all 
use  a great  many  wonderful  inventions  without  knowing 
anything  about  their  mechanism.  These  inventions  are 
supposed  to  be  the  business  slaves  of  to-day,  and  we  have 
not  enough  pride  of  mind  to  learn  how  and  why  they  are 
helpful  to  us.  We  use  them  as  if  we  also  were  machines, 
and  in  a feeble  way  we  boast  about  the  fact  that  they  are 
here  for  us  to  employ.  Not  one  person  in  five  thousand 
has  any  real  knowledge  about  the  telephone,  or  the  fitment 
of  electric  light  in  a house,  or  the  principles  of  aviation, 

167 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

or  the  engines  that  carry  us  by  train  or  by  steamer.  Very 
few  of  us  know  how  the  simplest  household  thing  is  made  ; 
and  as  workmanship  to-day  is  very  subdivided,  most  of 
us  are  craftsmen  of  odds  and  ends,  doing  each  of  us  some 
small  part  of  a big  undertaking  upon  which  many  are 
engaged.  If  we  look  at  ourselves  collectively,  as  a nation, 
we  are  great,  but  if  we  consider  ourselves  one  by  one  in 
relation  to  what  we  know  about  our  surroundings,  we 
are  weaker  and  more  isolated  than  civilised  men  have 
ever  been  before.  It  is  this  that  Brangwyn  feels  with 
an  intense  dramatic  energy  which  at  times  appears  very 
tragic  and  fatalistic.  He  has  not  lost  hope  in  man,  far 
from  that ; but  he  sees  that  man  is  using  his  skill,  his 
invention,  his  toil,  not  to  ennoble  his  daily  life  with  beauti- 
ful things,  but  to  make  himself  the  sport  of  mechanisms 
and  hazards  that  he  himself  creates.  It  is  a drama  new 
in  kind,  since  the  huge  masses  of  metal  and  of  brick- 
buildings  that  we  animate  with  pulsating  machines  seem 
of  greater  import  to  the  imagination  than  is  any  little 
busy  human  creature  that  helps  to  work  them.  For  in- 
stance, I feel  a tremendous  tragedy  in  Brangwyn’s  sketch — 
a sketch  translated  into  a famous  etching — of  the  gigantic 
battleship  ashore,  and  the  wee  pigmies  who  are  going  to 
break  her  up.  Here,  indeed,  is  a new  Gulliver  in  the  land 
of  the  Lilliputians. 

These  traits  in  Brangwyn’s  work  have  been  noted  also 
by  a French  critic,  M.  Henri  Marcel,  Director  of  the 
Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Paris,  who  wrote  one  of  the 
introductions  to  “The  Etched  Work  of  Frank  Brangwyn,” 
a very  beautiful  book  published  by  the  Fine  Art  Society, 
London,  in  1908.  M.  Marcel  says  : — 

168 


UNLOADING  ORANGES  AT  LONDON  LRIDG 
From  an  Original  Lithograph . 


Sketches  and  Studies 


“ It  is  London,  the  city  that  possesses  the  most  im- 
pressive scenery  of  this  kind  in  the  world,  that  without 
doubt  has  taught  Brangwyn  the  amazing  Titanic  beauty 
of  modern  machinery  and  of  all  its  great  engines.  Their 
enormous  dimensions,  their  bizarre  outlines,  the  kind  of 
irresistible  decision  with  which  they  move  and  work,  the 
absence  of  all  visible  effort  in  their  labour,  are  qualities 
not  less  stimulating  to  the  imagination  than  the  rhythmic 
and  measured  beauty  of  human  effort.  They  give  us  also 
the  moving  spectacle  of  imprisoned  forces  that  we  know 
to  be  deadly — forces  of  which  the  sudden  revolt  and  terrible 
cruelty  are  always  possibilities  that  we  must  beware  of. 
The  absence,  too,  of  a common  scale  between  man  and 
these  colossal  and  unshapely  monsters  carries  the  mind 
back,  by  analogy,  to  prehistoric  ages,  to  the  obscure  be- 
ginnings of  the  world  ; at  the  same  time  the  sentiment 
of  the  social  needs  of  which  they  are  the  provisional 
expression,  must  plunge  human  thought  into  an  abyss 
of  dreaming  of  what  may  be  possible  in  ages  to  come. 
This  particular  kind  of  beauty  becomes  exaggerated  and 
dramatic  in  London  because  ...  of  the  capricious  and 
struggling  character  of  the  light,  the  rays  there  shifting  with 
the  sunshine,  and  the  wind  that  is  continually  blotting 
it  out  with  factory  smoke  and  dust.  ...  It  is,  perhaps, 
to  this  fact  that  we  must  attribute  two  of  the  principal 
characteristics  of  Brangwyn’s  [etched]  work.  A great 
inequality  is  noticeable  when  we  contrast  the  plates  that 
represent  natural  forces  and  the  engines  that  are  their 
instruments  with  other  plates  that  depict  the  individual 
labours  of  mankind.  No  matter  how  great  is  the  emphasis 
that  he  gives  to  the  stature,  the  gesture  or  the  strain  of 
y 1 69 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  Work 

effort  in  his  workmen,  sawyers,  bricklayers,  dyers,  tanners, 
rowers,  or  sailors  hauling  boats,  by  the  artful  dimensions 
of  his  grouping,  he  is  scarcely  successful,  and  hardly 
seems  to  trouble  about  making  them  very  interesting ; 
hence  his  composition  often  lacks  what  is  necessary  to 
express  the  power  of  their  effort — intensity  of  accent, 
expressive  synthesis.  Lifeless  things,  on  the  other  hand, 
like  machines,  receive  from  his  needle  the  most  striking 
colour  and  character.  The  infinite  power  that  is  for  the 
moment  imprisoned  in  them  seems  to  interest  him  in- 
tensely. Such,  indeed,  is  the  impression  that  the  wharf, 
like  the  factory,  produces  upon  us ; there  the  man,  whose 
intelligence  enslaves  and  controls  these  inorganic  forces, 
seems  in  such  places  the  inferior,  the  slave  almost,  of  the 
monsters  that  he  has  in  reality  tamed.” 

In  fact,  the  average  man  does  not  at  present  enslave 
the  machine  that  he  controls,  but  is  himself  often  enslaved 
by  the  machine,  like  stokers  on  board  ship,  for  example, 
or  the  drivers  of  railway  engines,  who  rush  into  horrible 
accidents  if  they  neglect  their  engines.  Mechanical  in- 
ventions are  new  forms  of  organism  outside  man,  yet 
belonging  to  him  almost  as  intimately  as  his  stomach 
or  as  his  lungs.  That  Brangwyn  should  feel  all  this, 
in  a way  different  from  Constantin  Meunier  is  a point 
of  peculiar  interest,  and  I believe  it  appears  most  re- 
markably in  his  monochrome  work — his  crayon  sketches 
and  his  etchings.  But  it  is  only  a phase  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  his  art,  and  we  need  not  fear  that  its  mood  will 
become  a habit.  He  understands  the  deeper  meaning- 
in  art  that  underlies  one  of  the  most  important  criti- 
cisms made  by  Lessing  on  the  relation  between  man 
170 


Sketches  and  Studies 


and  human  handicraft.  “ I grant,”  said  Lessing,  “ that 
there  is  also  a beauty  in  drapery,  but  can  it  be  compared 
with  that  of  the  human  form  ? And  shall  he  who  can 
attain  to  the  greater,  rest  content  with  the  less  ? I 
much  fear  that  the  most  perfect  master  in  drapery 
shows  by  that  very  talent  wherein  his  weakness  lies.” 
As  with  drapery,  so  with  all  other  accessories  of  human 
life  : and  surely  the  most  threatening  sign  of  our  time 
is  the  circumstance  that  a great  many  thousands  of 
workmen  are  conscious  of  their  inferiority  to  machines. 
Let  that  consciousness  spread,  and  the  dignity  of  man- 
hood must  suffer  much.  Life  is  triumph  over  difficulties 
and  dangers,  not  a tame  submission  to  a mindless 
routine  of  subdivided  labour  ; and  so,  is  not  the  highest 
aim  of  modern  art  to  represent  the  heroic  aspects  of  man 
in  the  battlefields  of  industrialism  ? 

For  the  rest,  Brangwyn’s  sketches  and  studies  ought 
to  be  well  known,  because  they  have  been  illustrated 
in  many  magazines.  At  first  the  artist  used  lead-pencil, 
following  an  English  tradition  that  goes  back  to  the 
youth  of  English  water-colour  ; but  soon  he  took  greater 
pleasure  in  charcoal,  in  pastel,  in  natural  red  chalk,  in 
contd  crayon,  and  in  lithography.  His  studies  in  char- 
coal are  nearly  all  industrial  subjects,  and  most  of  them 
are  in  foreign  collections.  I remember  very  well  “ A 
Shipbuilding  Yard  on  the  Tyne,”  with  a great  vessel 
in  skeleton  cobwebbed  by  its  scaffolding,  and  a number 
of  men — how  tiny  they  look  in  comparison  with  the 
ribbed  frame  of  the  ship  ! — busy  at  their  jobs.  I re- 
member, too,  very  distinctly,  “ The  Railway  Cutting,” 
with  navvies,  and  a fine  design  of  smoke  floating  across 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

the  background.  Other  charcoal  studies  represent  sea 
life,  Turkish  sailors,  and  the  like,  but  I prefer  the 
British  workmen,  with  views  of  industrial  towns,  like 
Newcastle. 

In  this  typical  phase  of  his  work  Brangwyn  has  used 
pastel  on  a good  many  occasions,  as  in  studies  for  the 
room  decorations  that  he  carried  out  in  the  Venice 
International  Exhibition  of  1905.  He  then  designed  the 
whole  scheme  in  the  British  section,  its  woodwork  and 
its  furniture.  There  were  four  large  oblong  panels  and 
two  smaller  ones,  representing  forms  of  present-day 
labour — potters,  for  instance,  navvies,  smiths,  and  workers 
in  steel,  this  one  being  a study  in  pastel.  It  was  hoped 
in  Venice  that  these  decorations  would  remain  per- 
manently there,  in  the  Municipal  Gallery,  but  thanks 
to  an  English  patron  of  art,  Mr.  S.  Wilson,  they  were 
purchased  for  the  City  Art  Gallery  of  Leeds,  and  a fifth 
panel — “ Weavers  ” — was  commissioned  to  bear  them 
company  in  the  Brangwyn  room.  Many  sketches  were 
made  for  these  works,  some  in  pastel,  and  others  in 
contb ; two  of  the  most  important  passed  into  the 
private  collection  of  M.  A.  G.  Migeon  of  the  Louvre. 

It  may  be  taken  as  an  axiom  in  art  that  those  who 
make  the  largest  number  of  preparatory  studies  are 
either  careful  and  elaborate  artists  like  Leighton  and 
Ingres,  or  impetuous  and  very  virile  painters,  like 
Delacroix  and  Brangwyn.  Extremes  meet.  People  often 
forget  this  fact  and  stumble  into  mistakes.  It  was  long 
believed  that  Brangwyn  made  no  sketches  at  all,  and 
criticisms  were  written  from  that  standpoint.  This 
happened  particularly  in  the  case  of  such  pictures  as 
IJ2 


THE  LOOM. 

From  an  Original  Lithograph. 


Sketches  and  Studies 


“The  Scoffers,”  though  beautiful  studies  of  expression 
had  been  made  in  crayon  for  each  figure.  It  was  Mr. 
Konody,  I believe,  who  first  published  a series  of 
drawings  for  the  Moorish  figures  in  “ The  Scoffers,”  and 
called  attention  also  to  the  life-studies  that  Brangwyn 
made  in  1895  when  working  for  M.  Bing  in  Paris.  I dwell 
upon  this  matter  because  I am  constantly  being  told 
that  Brangwyn  is  one  of  those  lucky  fellows  who  paint 
rapidly  without  rehearsing  their  intentions  and  effects. 

For  the  purpose  in  hand,  let  me  here  make  another 
general  remark,  not,  I think,  irrelevant : it  is  the  fact 
that  Brangwyn  gives  examples  of  the  two  methods  of 
drawing  that  appeal  to  us  from  pictures.  The  first 
method  sets  us  thinking  about  nature’s  delight  in  circular 
or  in  rotund  forms,  while  the  other  avoids  as  many 
round  shapes  as  it  can  by  the  use  of  suggestive  angular 
touches.  I happen  to  be  very  sensitive  on  this  point, 
because  my  masters  at  the  Brussels  Academy  told  me 
always  that  my  work  had  a tendency  to  be  “ too  round  ” ; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  there  is  more  life  and 
character  in  a square  method  of  sketching.  Nature  her- 
self creates  angles  when  her  moods  are  violent.  This 
she  shows  in  forked  lightning  and  in  the  ragged  forms 
of  rocks  shattered  by  an  earthquake ; while  in  all  her 
manifestations  of  abundance  her  shapes  are  rounded,  as 
witness  the  forms  of  fruits,  flowers,  birds’  eggs,  tree  trunks, 
the  sun,  and  the  physical  beauty  of  women.  A round 
method  of  drawing  is  excellent  in  decorative  design, 
for  it  suggests  repose  and  poise ; and  that  is  why 
flowing  curves  have  ever  been  chosen  for  patterns. 
Angles  have  a much  stronger  accent  and  suggest  an 

i73 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

active  vigour ; this  will  be  seen  at  once  if  you  draw 
a man’s  leg,  indicating  the  muscles  first  with  a curved 
touch  and  then  with  an  angular  feeling.  I am  sure 
you  will  be  greatly  interested  when  you  note  the  con- 
trastive use  that  Brangwyn  makes  of  both  methods, 
responding  to  different  moods  of  sentiment. 

Here,  for  example,  is  a lithograph  showing  a cooper 
at  work ; he  wears  a loose  shirt  that  takes  angular 
pleats,  while  his  baggy  trousers  roll  into  rotund  lines  ; 
he  leans  forward  with  his  hands  grasping  a huge  barrel, 
and  the  muscles  of  a bare  arm,  put  in  with  a touch 
free  from  roundness,  tell  me  that  the  man  is  ready  to 
push  the  heavy  thing  forward.  The  technique  in  this 
lithograph  is  good  sketching,  easy  and  strong  and 
distinctive.  Among  other  lithographs  I may  mention 
“The  Harvesters,”  “Platelayers,”  “ Music,”  “ The  Loom,” 
“ Unloading  Oranges  at  London  Bridge,”  “ Men  Carrying 
Fruit,”  “The  Pool  of  Bethesda”  (a  very  large  print),  “A 
Winepress  in  Spain,”  “ The  Drunkards,”  and  “ The 
Buccaneers,”  in  which  ten  rascals  and  their  absurd 
accoutrements  are  studied  with  humorous  pleasure. 
M.  Marcel  describes  this  print  as  fantastically  comic, 
but  he  prefers  the  “ Winepress  in  Spain,”  calling  it 
a masterpiece  of  exact  observation.  Mr.  Claude  Phillips 
has  a great  admiration  for  “The  Men  Carrying  Fruit,” 
superb  as  a work  of  art ; “ a design  treated  with  something 
of  the  Greek  freedom  and  the  Greek  spirit,  although  it  is 
anything  but  Greek  in  aspect.” 


U4 


CHAPTER  XII 


WATER-COLOUR 

WE  have  seen  already  that  Brangwyn  has  found 
it  helpful  to  his  aims  as  a colourist  to  paint 
from  time  to  time  in  water-colour.  He  has 
used  this  medium  occasionally  since  boy- 
hood, for  one  of  his  water-colours  was  hung  at  the  Royal 
Academy  in  1887.  There  are  people  who  say  that  his 
technique  is  apart  from  the  tradition  of  the  English 
masters,  and  Brangwyn  himself  agrees  that  he  never  served 
an  apprenticeship  in  those  methods  that  developed  from 
stained  or  tinted  drawings  into  the  multitudinous  delicacy 
of  Turner,  into  the  breadth  of  Girtin  and  Cotman,  of  David 
Cox,  and  Muller  and  De  Wint ; or  again,  into  the  admir- 
able assurance  of  such  lesser  men  as  Ibbetson,  Francia, 
Varley,  Havell,  Joseph  Nash,  Prout,  Harding,  and  Leitch. 
But  methods  are  not  devised  by  men  and  superimposed  on 
any  medium  for  artistic  expression  ; they  arise  from  the 
medium  itself,  and  their  essential  qualities  are  respected 
when  new  aims  in  technique  displace  the  old.  The  chief 
and  distinguishing  beauty  of  water-colour  is  the  gleam  of 
paper  through  transparent  tints  having  a luminous  surface 
without  gloss,  a surface  that  never  stands  in  need  of 
varnish ; and  there  is  always  a distinct  loss  when  that 
limpid  brilliance  is  deadened  either  by  paper  which  is  too 
dark,  or  by  turning  pigment  into  body-colour  by  mixing  it 

U5 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  tFork 

with  white.  Body-colour  is  virtually  tempera,  though  it 
has  not  the  solidity  and  power  of  real  tempera.  For  this 
reason  I prefer  Brangwyn  water-colours  to  Brangwyn 
body-colours,  while  feeling  the  charm  that  the  latter  have 
at  their  best.  In  the  spring  of  this  year  he  made  several 
fine  ones  in  the  ruins  of  Messina,  showing  the  architectural 
wreckage  in  that  vast  graveyard,  and  noting  how  certain 
men,  under  the  shadow  of  broken  walls,  gathered  together 
odds  and  ends  of  furniture  and  went  on  with  their  futile 
devilries  as  gamblers  and  cheats.  The  Messina  sketches 
have  great  interest,  and  those  which  are  in  pure  water- 
colour belong  to  the  tradition  of  Muller’s  rapid  manipula- 
tion with  a full  brush. 

When  body-colour  is  used  it  is  best  to  take  a hint 
from  old  William  Hunt,  whose  technique  in  the  water- 
medium  was  always  learned  and  suggestive.  When  he 
wished  to  get  a degree  of  brilliance  that  his  paper  would 
not  give,  as  in  ripe  fruits,  he  made  a good  ground  with 
Chinese  white  and  let  it  dry  hard  ; then,  in  swift  and  fluent 
touches  with  transparent  colour,  he  painted  over  it,  taking 
care  never  to  disturb  the  white.  Brangwyn  has  not  yet 
employed  this  method,  but  he  has  used  tinted  papers,  as 
did  Muller  and  George  Cattermole.  The  danger  here  is 
that  in  seeking  for  depth  of  tone  by  this  means  some  other 
loveliness  peculiar  to  the  medium  may  be  lost.  De  Wint 
was  faithful  all  his  life  to  cream-faced  Whatman  paper  with  a 
biting  grain,  and  Girtin  was  loyal  to  a peculiar  kind  of  strong, 
wire-laid  cartridge  paper  that  he  bought  in  folded  quires 
from  a stationer  at  Charing  Cross.  Its  colour  is  not  white, 
and  the  effects  it  produces  under  the  free  and  bold  washes 
are  seldom  equal  to  the  luminous  strength  of  a De  Wint. 

176 


W't iter-Colour 


I mention  here  with  particular  interest  these  fine 
painters,  De  Wint  and  Girtin,  not  only  because  Brangwyn 
loves  their  work,  but  because  he  and  they  have  a certain 
kinship  in  sentiment  of  handling.  This  fact  may  not  be 
apparent  to  you  at  a first  glance,  because  Brangwyn  appeals 
to  us  very  often  as  an  orientalist,  like  Muller,  while  Girtin 
never  travelled  farther  than  Paris,  and  De  Wint  was  so 
devoted  to  flat  country  scenes  in  England  that  he  refused 
to  try  foreign  landscape.  But  if  these  men  had  gone  to  the 
East  their  swift,  full  brushes  would  have  recorded  the 
intense  sunlight  in  ways  having  much  in  common  with 
Brangwyn’s  nervous  washes,  accented  with  a crisp  touch 
here  and  there.  Brangwyn,  too,  like  De  Wint,  is  at  his 
best  in  water-colour  when  he  does  not  go  beyond  the 
sketch,  leaving  his  work  for  some  fool  to  finish.  He  is 
very  well  represented  at  the  Luxembourg  by  a glowing 
aquarelle — Un  Puits  cut  Maroc,  intense  with  light  and 
shade,  a group  of  figures  behind,  silhouetted  against  green 
shrubs  seen  through  a trellised  wall ; and  in  the  fore- 
ground is  a ruddy-faced  boy  in  a golden  yellow  gown, 
carrying  a water-gourd. 

The  method  is  quite  different  from  Melville’s,  though 
we  are  told  from  time  to  time  that  Brangwyn  owes  much  in 
his  water-colours  to  the  happy  skill  with  which  Melville 
got  his  delightful  effects,  interspersing  his  dots  and  dashes 
and  blobs  with  empty  spaces.  Both  are  colourists  of  the 
first  order,  both  are  virile  and  impetuous,  and  each  shows 
in  his  own  way  a buoyant  delight  in  grasping  the  essential 
points  of  an  Eastern  scene  crowded  with  figures,  or  a phase 
of  life  elsewhere.  Stipplers  tell  us  that  they  have  another 
thing  in  common — defective  drawing ; but  their  powers  of 
z 177 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

suggestion  in  the  difficult  art  of  water-colour  is  consummate 
draughtsmanship,  as  stipplers  would  find  if  they  tried  to 
analyse  synthetically,  instead  of  in  detail,  copying  line  by 
line.  To  draw  in  that  manner  is  within  the  reach  of  any 
academic  patience,  while  the  massed  synthesis  of  Brangwyn 
or  the  blotted  unity  of  Melville  is  the  expression  of  original 
observation  and  feeling,  and  those  who  try  to  imitate  it 
do  not  succeed.  Art  of  this  kind  has  to  be  judged  by 
imaginative  eyes,  and  I take  pleasure  in  applying  to  it 
what  Ruskin  says  in  his  comparison  between  Reynolds 
and  Hobbema : — 

“A  few  strokes  of  the  pencil,  or  dashes  of  colour,  will 
be  enough  to  enable  the  imagination  to  conceive  a tree; 
and  in  those  dashes  of  colour  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  would 
have  rested,  and  would  have  suffered  the  imagination  to 
paint  what  more  it  liked  for  itself,  and  grow  oaks,  or  olives, 
or  apples  out  of  the  dashes  of  colour  at  its  leisure.  On  the 
other  hand,  Hobbema  . . . smites  the  imagination  on  the 
mouth,  and  bids  it  be  silent,  while  he  sets  to  work  to  paint 
his  oak  of  the  right  green.” 

Melville  and  Brangwyn,  in  their  fortunate  moods, 
suggest  the  impression  that  actual  facts  have  made  on 
their  minds,  and  no  higher  compliment  can  be  paid  to  us 
— the  onlookers  of  art,  who  have  to  collaborate  with  artists 
when  we  wish  to  enjoy  their  skill.  Where  Brangwyn  and 
Melville  differ  essentially  is  in  nervous  temperament,  for 
while  Brangwyn  feels  the  need  of  a sweeping  touch,  that 
gathers  details  rapidly  into  battalion  masses,  Melville’s 
brush  blobs,  and  dabs,  and  flicks,  not  irritably,  like  a 
hungry  bird  pecking  at  fruit,  but  with  pleasure  and  great 
technical  knowledge.  Further,  Brangwyn  is  decorative 
178 


Water-  Colour 


in  many  of  his  water-colours,  while  Melville  is  pictorial, 
seeking  always  to  suggest  the  full  glory  of  light  and  air, 
with  their  effects  on  contours,  distances,  colours,  and 
movements.  We  can  never  have  too  much  variety  in  art, 
and  these  two  painters — each  within  limits  set  by  tempera- 
ment and  by  aesthetic  outlook — have  enriched  the  beauti- 
ful art  of  English  water-colour. 


179 


CHAPTER  XIII 


ILLUSTRATIONS  FOR  MAGAZINES  AND  BOOKS— 
DESIGNS  FOR  POSTERS 

WHEN  a painter  from  time  to  time  turns 
from  his  own  work  to  illustrations,  either 
he  wants  to  earn  money  while  struggling 
with  a big  picture,  or  else  he  feels  that 
“parerga”  (as  the  Greeks  called  the  by-play  efforts  of  more 
leisured  hours),  will  take  him  away  from  the  main  stress 
of  his  usual  professional  life.  Brangwyn  speaks  of  his 
illustrations  as  bread-and-butter  things,  but  this  applies 
more  often  to  his  books  than  to  his  drawings  for  magazines, 
and  the  reason  is  practical.  The  book  market  has  been  so 
glutted  during  the  last  twenty  years  that  the  fortunes 
of  its  stock  have  been  like  those  of  little  children  lost 
in  a turbulent  crowd.  To  foresee  what  would  happen  to 
them,  to  divine  which  would  be  saved  and  which  killed, 
has  been  impossible ; and  therefore  it  has  needed  courage 
to  pay  large  fees  for  illustrations.  Even  two  guineas  for 
each  of  a dozen  drawings,  when  added  to  the  cost  of 
blocks,  and  paper,  and  printing,  may  be  too  much.  Many 
a good  venture  has,  indeed,  been  turned  by  that  price  into 
a failure.  It  is  hard  upon  the  rank  and  file  of  illustrators, 
unless  they  are  popular  with  those  magazines  and  weeklies 
that  actually  do  what  they  can  afford  to  do — paying  well 
and  promptly.  American  magazines  lead  the  way  in  this 
1 80 


Illustrations  for  Magazines  and  Hooks 

respect,  and  Brangwyn  has  worked — always  with  much 
pleasure — for  Scribner  s,  Maclure s,  the  Century , Collier's 
Weekly , and  the  Cambridge  Press,  U.S.A. 

The  Graphic  has  supported  him  from  the  days  of  his 
first  adventures  as  a sea-painter,  and  always  in  a way 
that  he  has  liked  to  remember.  The  plates  were  very 
popular.  Several  were  in  colours,  like  the  “Sail  Ho!” 
in  the  Christmas  number  of  1902  ; and  in  the  Christmas 
numbers  of  1895  and  1896,  Brangwyn  illustrated  two  stories 
by  Mr.  Rudyard  Kipling — “The  Devil  and  the  Deep  Sea,” 
and  “ Bread  upon  the  Waters.”  The  two  colour-prints  are 
typical  and  good.  The  better  one  belongs  to  “ Bread  upon 
the  Waters.”  It  recalls  to  memory  the  fact  that  some 
foreign  critics  have  noted  a kinship  between  Rudyard 
Kipling  and  Frank  Brangwyn.  M.  Gabriel  Mourey  says, 
for  instance : “ Brangwyn  ne  possede-t-il  pas  la  meme 
fagon  de  grandir,  de  ‘lyriciser,’  si  Ton  peut  dire,  la  realitb, 
de  glorifier  les  aspects  momentands  des  choses  pour  nous 
en  faire  sentir  plus  profondement  les  beautes  secretes,  aussi 
pour  nous  donner  de  l’homme  qui  les  possede  et  les  com- 
prend  une  idee  plus  haute,  plus  dominatrice.”  Anyway, 
one  thing  is  certain  : Kipling  and  Brangwyn  are  friendly 
shipmates  in  a fine  sea-story. 

1894.  “The  Wreck  of  the  Golden  Fleece^  the  story 
of  a North  Sea  fisher-boy,  by  Robert  Leighton.  Messrs. 
Blackie. 

1895.  “Don  Quixote.”  Translated  by  Thomas  Shelton 

in  1612,  from  the  second  edition  of  the  story  published 
at  Madrid  in  1605.  4 vols.  London  : Gibbings  Sz  Co. 

The  pictures — four  in  photogravure  and  the  rest  in  half- 
tone— are  conceived  in  the  right  spirit.  The  subjects 

181 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

chosen  are  varied,  and  I note  a few : Don  Quixote  ready 
to  receive  on  the  point  of  his  lance  the  merchants  of 
Toledo ; he  discourses  with  the  goatherds ; he  sees  some 
twelve  men  in  a company  on  foot,  fastened  together  by 
a chain  of  iron,  that  is  tied  about  their  necks ; the  pro- 
cession of  ecclesiastics  in  white,  who  call  upon  God  to 
bestow  some  rain  upon  the  land ; the  Puppet  Play ; 
Sancho  and  the  Don  on  board  the  enchanted  bark ; they 
appear  as  shepherds,  and  Quixote’s  return  home — a lively 
street  scene. 

1896.  “The  Arabian  Nights.”  Translated  by  Edward 
William  Lane.  6 vols.  Gibbings  & Co.  Pleasantly  illus- 
trated in  monochromes.  Brangwyn  is  not  here  attracted 
by  fantastic  episodes,  nor  does  he  keep  the  book  from  the 
hands  of  little  children  by  drawing  voluptuous  scenes  of 
harem  life ; he  is  a realist  in  most  of  the  plates,  giving 
scenes  in  Damascus  or  in  Bagdad,  or  showing  carriers 
unloading  a vessel,  or  galley-slaves  at  their  chained  oars 
and  a taskmaster  wielding  his  long  whip.  There  is  a 
charming  woman  in  one  plate ; she  reclines  on  a carpeted 
dai's,  with  her  head  resting  against  her  lord,  and  listens 
while  a story  is  being  told. 

1899.  “A  Spliced  Yarn.”  A volume  of  good  sea- 
stories  by  George  Cupples,  author  of  “The  Green  Hand.” 
Gibbings  & Co. 

1900.  Cervantes  : “ Exemplary  Tales — A Story  of  Two 

Damosels,  The  Lady  Cornelia,  The  Jealous  Husband,  The 
Liberal  Lover,  The  Force  of  Blood,  and  The  Spanish 
Lady.”  Translated  by  James  Mabbe  in  1640.  2 vols. 

Two  photogravures  and  ten  half-tone  blocks.  There  are 
several  sea-pictures,  like  “The  Boarding  of  Ali’s  Galley,” 

1 82 


Illustrations  for  Magazines  and  Rooks 

an  original  composition  ; and  I like  the  Rembrandtesque 
supper-party  in  “The  Force  of  Blood,”  and  the  redeeming 
of  Christian  captives  in  “The  Spanish  Lady.”  This  would 
enlarge  into  a fine  fresco. 

1905.  “ Tom  Cringle’s  Log.”  By  Michael  Scott. 

Gibbings  & Co.  The  pictures  are  small  photogravures, 
all  interesting,  but  they  do  not  represent  the  text,  giving 
the  main  incidents  and  characters. 

1905.  “The  Spirit  of  the  Age.”  Text  by  Ldonce 
Bdnedite  and  W.  Shaw-Sparrow.  Four  lithographs,  four 
plates  in  colour,  and  twelve  Rembrandt  photogravures. 
1905.  Hodder  & Stoughton. 

1908.  “The  Last  Fight  of  the  Revenge .”  By  Sir 

Walter  Raleigh.  Six  colour-plates  and  many  line-blocks 
in  the  text  as  headpieces  and  tailpieces.  Subjects  of  the 
colour-plates:  “Queen  Elizabeth  going  on  board  the  Golden 
Hind]'  from  the  overmantel  at  Lloyd’s;  “A  Captured 
Galleon,”  from  a picture  belonging  to  Colonel  Goff;  “The 
Last  Fight,”  “ Galleons  in  Harbour,”  “ Loading  the 
Galleons,”  and  “The  Galleon  Fair.”  Gibbings  & Co. 

1908.  “ The  Etched  Work  of  Frank  Brangwyn.” 
With  a Catalogue  of  133  Etchings  compiled  by  Frank 
Newbolt,  A.R.E.,  and  Appreciations  by  Henri  Marcel, 
Director  of  the  Bibliotheque  Nationale,  Paris,  and  Prof. 
Dr.  Hans  W.  Singer,  Keeper  of  the  Royal  Print-Room, 
Dresden.  The  Fine  Art  Society,  148  New  Bond  Street, 
London.  A beautiful  work. 

1909.  “ Rubaiyat  of  Omar  Khayyam.”  Translated  by 
Edward  Fitzgerald.  Introduction  by  Joseph  Jacobs.  Four 
good  plates  in  colour,  well  printed,  and  ornamental 
borderings  to  each  page.  Gibbings  & Co. 


183 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

1909.  “ Historical  Paintings  in  the  Great  Hall  in 

London  of  the  Worshipful  Company  of  Skinners.”  By 
Frank  Brangwyn,  A.R.A.,  R.E.,  Membre  de  la  SocHtd 
Nationale  des  Beaux-Arts,  Paris ; Socidtd  Royale  Beige, 
Royal  Academy  of  Milan,  and  Royal  Academy  of  Stock- 
holm. With  an  Introductory  Essay  by  Warwick  H. 
Draper,  M.A.  The  Caradoc  Press.  A book  for  collectors. 

In  addition  to  these,  Brangwyn  has  illustrated  Southey’s 
“Life  of  Nelson,”  and  another  edition  of  “Omar  Khayyam.” 
Then  again,  there  are  a few  excellent  posters,  the  best  of 
all  being  one  for  the  Orient  Pacific  Line ; it  represents  a 
huge  steamer  and  some  little  craft  manned  by  Orientals. 
It  is  good  in  every  way.  The  advertisement  of  words  is 
not  overdone ; the  eye  takes  it  in  at  a glance,  and  the  mind 
can  remember  it  without  effort.  These  points  are  essential 
in  all  advertising,  yet  they  are  usually  forgotten  by  trades- 
men. Every  artist  who  designs  a poster  has  a battle  to 
fight  as  soon  as  his  work  comes  in  touch  with  the  vain- 
glory of  advertisers,  who  believe  that  they  must  be  effective 
if  they  say  far  too  much  about  themselves  and  their  work. 
If  a few  words  are  necessary  in  this  form  of  design,  so,  too, 
are  a few  well-chosen  colours,  carefully  massed  and  kept 
flat  and  pure.  Brangwyn  uses  primary  colours — red, 
yellow,  and  blue — and  brings  them  into  contrast  with 
the  long  dark  hull  of  the  ocean  steamer  that  stretches 
across  the  poster,  forming  a mass  of  neutral  tints.  How 
gay  and  beautiful  our  hoardings  would  be  if  all  posters 
had  to  be  approved  by  a small  committee  of  competent 
experts  at  the  Board  of  Trade.  “The  poor  man’s  art- 
gallery  ” — and  the  general  look  of  our  towns  and  cities — 
need  some  national  protection. 

1 84 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ETCHINGS:  AND  SUMMARY  OF  CHARACTERISTICS 

THE  first  important  etchings  by  Frank  Brangwyn 
date  from  the  year  1902.  Long  before  then,  in 
boyhood,  he  had  made  some  experimental  plates ; 
at  a later  period  he  tried  his  luck  in  “The  Mill, 
Manningtree,”  one  proof  of  which  now  belongs  to  Mr. 
H.  F.  W.  Ganz ; but  these  first  attempts  had  no  real 
value,  while  those  of  1902  proved  that  Brangwyn  had 
found  for  himself  an  original  line.  A man  of  his 

temperament  could  not  follow  at  the  heel  of  modern 
etchers,  striving  always  after  dainty  suggestion,  after 
subtle  allusiveness.  He  would  need  large  metal  plates, 
choosing  soft  zinc  more  often  than  hard  copper ; and  he 
would  bite  his  work  with  very  strong  nitrous  acid  until 
the  lines  became  deep  and  fat  and  silky.  In  his  crafts- 
manship there  would  be  impatient  emotion,  nervous  and 
rugged  life;  and  because  etching  gave  harmonies  in 
black  and  white,  he  would  not  be  afraid  to  use  those 
two  colours  in  bold  masses,  all  well  orchestrated,  and 
printed  with  great  care.  Questions  of  ink  would  interest 
him  greatly,  for  blacks  without  transparence,  without 
inner  light,  would  annoy  him,  just  as  they  annoyed 
Turner.  The  best  French  black,  thick  and  stiff,  and 
difficult  to  use,  would  be  chosen,  probably,  but  he 
would  add  to  it  a little  burnt  sienna  with  a trifle  of 

185 


2 A 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  Work 

raw  sienna  also,  just  to  give  translucency.  He  would 
see  that  his  ink  had  the  quality  of  good  paint.  It 
would  not  be  possible  for  a Brangwyn  temperament  to 
find  adequate  self-interpretation  by  any  other  aims  and 
technical  methods,  yet  his  etchings  still  continue  to  pro- 
voke surprise  and  controversy,  as  if  onlookers  do  not 
mind  when  they  fail  to  penetrate  into  the  inner  essence 
and  the  life  of  those  arts  that  they  wish  to  understand. 

Since  1902,  for  example,  there  has  been  much  lamenta- 
tion in  England — but  never  on  the  Continent — over  the 
size  of  Brangwyns  etchings.  They  are  said  to  be  much 
too  large.  One  critic  writes  as  follows  on  this  point : — 

“ These  big  etchings  tell  tremendously  in  an  exhibition, 
but  they  are  more  suitable  for  the  large  portfolios  and, 
in  many  cases,  ample  wall-space  of  a public  collection 
than  for  the  more  limited  accommodation  of  a private 
house.  ...  In  England,  at  least,  we  are  not  con- 
tented with  one  picture  on  a wall ; most  of  us  like  our 
walls  rather  crowded,  and  we  cannot  all  afford  to  crowd 
them  with  Brangwyns.  Nor  do  the  conditions  of  light 
and  space  with  which  the  majority  of  us  have  to  be  con- 
tented in  our  dwelling-rooms  permit  us  to  enjoy  these 
robust  and  imposing  compositions  at  the  proper  distance 
from  the  eye.  It  is  impossible  to  mix  Brangwyns  with 
Whistlers,  Hadens,  Bones,  or  any  of  the  humbler  English 
etchings  likely  to  be  found  in  a house  where  painter- 
etchers’  work  is  appreciated  at  all ; the  difference  of  scale 
is  too  great,  the  adjustment  of  focus  too  exhausting  to 
the  eye.” 

It  is  difficult  to  find  one’s  way  about  that  criticism. 
There  is  no  starting-point  within  the  art  of  Brangwyn, 
186 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

and  if  householders  like  their  walls  to  be  crowded  with 
small  prints,  all  out  of  scale  with  the  mural  surface,  we 
have  reason  to  wish  for  a better  taste  in  British  homes. 
Small  etchings  should  be  put  in  cabinets  or  in  portfolios, 
while  large  prints  by  Piranesi,  by  Legros,  by  Brangwyn, 
have  a scale  and  a style  that  fit  them  for  mural  decora- 
tion. If  we  like,  we  can  keep  them  also  in  cabinets,  for 
their  ornamental  value  does  not  interfere  with  their  varied 
charm  when  we  study  them  closely  and  near  at  hand. 
A little  etching  never  looks  in  place  on  a wall,  unless 
we  forget  that  the  first  principles  of  applied  art  are  fit- 
ness for  a given  purpose  and  a just  proportion  between 
a decoration  and  the  object  decorated.  Even  in  little 
rooms  the  walls  are  too  big  to  be  in  scale  with  small 
etchings.  And  other  useful  things  can  be  said  about 
large  etchings,  considered  in  their  relation  to  household 
taste.  They  are  less  costly  than  good  paintings  of  equal 
size,  and  they  look  quite  well  in  the  dim  winter  light  of 
big  towns ; their  colour  is  neither  fugitive  nor  changeful, 
and  they  bear  their  part  with  credit  in  almost  any  scheme 
of  room  decoration,  except  one  with  panelled  walls. 

Whistler,  as  we  know,  held  other  views  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  expressed  them  in  his  “ Gentle  Art  of  Making 
Enemies.”  The  Hoboken  Etching  Club  had  invited  him 
to  enter  a competition,  and  to  do  a big  plate  measuring 
not  less  than  2 feet  by  3 feet.  If  the  committee  of 
that  Club  had  been  well  acquainted  with  Whistler’s 
etched  work,  they  would  have  remembered  that  even  in 
little  prints  of  the  Thames  his  effect  was  often  scattered, 
wanting  the  grasp  of  hand  that  produces  firm  structure 
and  good  design.  It  is  said  that  he  did  try  to  etch 

187 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

in  large,  but  a ten-mile  race  in  black-and-white  art  was 
too  much  for  his  emotional  stamina ; he  broke  down, 
making  a complete  failure.  In  small  plates,  on  the 
other  hand,  he  achieved  the  new  and  original  romance 
of  his  Venetian  period,  when  every  line  had  a sympa- 
thetic charm,  wonderfully  alive  with  a sort  of  airy  magic. 
Small  etchings  were  right  for  Whistler,  but,  artist-like, 
he  wished  to  pass  from  himself  and  his  limitations  into 
a general  rule.  If  large  etchings  were  wrong  in  his  own 
case,  why  should  they  be  right  at  any  time?  To  forget 
Piranesi  and  Legros  was  not  difficult,  since  a theory 
had  to  be  bolstered  up  by  arguments,  and  Whistler 
delighted  to  be  subtle  in  effervescent  reasonings.  With 
great  care  he  wrote  to  the  Hoboken  Etching  Club, 
copied  his  letter,  and  kept  the  copy  for  future  reference ; 
nor  did  he  forget  to  show  method  and  pride  in  the 
tabulation  of  his  dicta : — 

“ i.  That  in  art  it  is  criminal  to  go  beyond  the  means 
used  in  its  exercise. 

“2.  That  the  space  to  be  covered  should  always  be  in 
proper  relation  to  the  means  used  for  covering  it. 

“ 3.  That  in  etching  the  means  used,  or  instrument 
employed,  being  the  finest  possible  point,  the  space  to 
be  covered  should  be  small  in  proportion. 

“4.  That  all  attempts  to  overstep  the  limits,  insisted 
upon  by  such  proportion,  are  inartistic  thoroughly,  and 
tend  to  reveal  the  paucity  of  the  means  used,  instead  of 
concealing  the  same,  as  required  by  Art  in  its  refine- 
ment. 

“ 5.  That  the  huge  plate,  therefore,  is  an  offence.” 

188 


THE  BLACK  MILL,  WINCHELSEA. 
From  an  Original  Etching. 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

To  all  this  we  must  add  two  dicta  omitted  by  Whistler. 
The  first  is  that  a complete  success  in  any  art  is  in  its  own 
justification.  At  a time  when  metal  plates  for  etching  were 
beaten  out  by  hand,  a small  expanse  of  copper  may  have 
seemed,  perhaps,  to  be  an  essential  limitation  to  a difficult 
art ; but  as  soon  as  metal  could  be  rolled  out  with  a perfect 
flatness  by  machine-power,  a big  sheet  of  copper  was  not 
more  difficult  to  get  than  a small  one,  so  that  experiments 
could  be  made  on  an  ampler  scale.  Then  success  would 
be  determined,  not  by  dicta  as  to  size,  but  by  the  genius 
of  a man  who  worked  more  freely  in  large  than  in  little. 
True,  his  instrument  was  the  finest  possible  point,  that 
made  the  finest  possible  line,  but  this  was  not  the  whole 
of  his  handicraft,  since  his  metal  plate  had  yet  to  be  bitten 
by  acid.  The  acid  could  be  either  weak  or  strong,  and  the 
finest  lines,  bitten  deeply,  would  grow  into  scale  with  the 
large  surface,  becoming  rich  and  strong.  So  then,  to  argue 
from  the  fine  point  of  one  instrument  was  incorrect ; it  was 
necessary  to  remember  two  other  factors — the  acid  bath  and 
a natural  aptitude  of  some  artists  to  do  their  best  work 
on  a spacious  scale. 

Perhaps  Whistler’s  dicta  may  be  true  if  we  apply  them 
to  dry-points,  but  to  give  them  a general  authority  over 
etching  is  unreasonable.  Brangwyn  found  that  they  were 
far  and  away  too  Procrustean  ; they  did  not  suit  his  tem- 
perament at  all,  but  cramped  his  natural  style,  so  he  thrust 
them  aside,  etching  “ London  Bridge,”  that  measured 
22  by  i6f  inches,  and  “A  Turkish  Cemetery,”  where  he 
designed  with  freedom  over  a surface  measuring  18  inches 
by  19  inches. 

Professor  Legros  saw  these  early  efforts  in  1903,  and 

1 89 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

admired  their  bold  aspect.  “A  Turkish  Cemetery”  has, 
indeed,  an  oriental  feeling,  a sensation  of  vivid  light  and 
of  rich  colour,  while  the  “London  Bridge”  is  massive 
and  cloudy  and  industrial.  The  general  effect  is  not 
perfect,  I admit.  The  steamer  is  too  even  in  her  black- 
ness ; and  again,  the  distant  houses  are  drawn  with  a 
mathematical  neatness,  cold  and  correct,  not  nervous  and 
suggestive,  like  those  touches  of  architectural  shorthand 
that  count  for  so  much  in  line  draughtsmanship.  There 
is  more  maturity  in  another  etching  of  the  first  period, 
“A  Road  in  Picardy,”  reminiscent  of  the  fine  Hobbema 
in  our  National  Gallery,  but  with  a still  more  romantic 
charm  in  the  aspiring  avenue.  The  trees  feel  the  wind 
unevenly,  and  their  elastic  strength  is  made  real  with  high- 
spirited  joy.  By  way  of  contrast,  in  order  to  show  the 
scope  of  these  early  etchings,  I now  choose  the  busy 
“Tan-Yard,”  with  its  men  at  work,  strong  fellows,  all  well 
drawn  ; but  I notice  a peculiarity  in  their  grouping.  They 
are  placed  two  by  two — a defect  in  composition  that  appears 
here  and  there  in  Brangwyn  pictures.  Perhaps  it  arises 
from  his  practice  since  boyhood  in  pattern  decoration, 
where  all  details  are  repeated  exactly. 

Again,  the  etchings  are  very  valuable  to  all  who  would 
appreciate  his  genius.1  The  eye  is  not  influenced  by  many 
colours  all  in  harmony,  and  we  pass  from  print  to  print 
as  travellers  do  through  drawings  that  recall  to  their  re- 
collection their  journeys  in  various  lands.  One  might  say, 


1 It  is  never  difficult  to  see  Brangwyn  etchings  here  in  London,  for  the  Fine  Art 
Society,  New  Bond  Street,  has  always  a large  number,  as  well  as  a catalogue  to  June 
1908,  with  133  brief  descriptions.  In  Paris  the  etchings  are  to  be  seen  ches  M.  Bramson, 
Galerie  d’Art  Decoratif,  7 Rue  Laffitte. 

190 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

in  figurative  language,  that  Brangwyn  etchings  are  the 
maps  and  charts  of  Brangwyn’s  realm,  a realm  with  many 
provinces.  Let  us  study  their  characteristics  one  by  one, 
keeping  always  in  mind  the  fact  that  they  belong  also 
to  his  work  as  a painter. 

i.  Masculinity. — To  this  word  we  must  give  a much 
wider  meaning  than  that  which  is  attached  to  it  in  daily 
talk.  Coleridge  said — and  his  opinion  in  this  matter  was 
supported  by  Goethe  and  by  other  great  thinkers  and  ob- 
servers— that  creative  minds  were  always  androgynous ; 
in  other  words,  that  the  qualities  of  genius  were  partly 
masculine  and  partly  feminine.  Not  only  is  this  true,  but 
we  find  in  it  a sure  basis  for  useful  criticism.  When  we 
come  in  contact  with  the  work  of  a genuine  artist,  the  first 
question  to  be  asked  and  answered  is  as  follows : Does 
this  man  develop  the  female  side  of  his  genius,  or  does  he 
allow  the  male  attributes  to  dominate  the  female  ? Does 
his  appeal  strike  a feminine  note,  or  is  it  militant  and 
masculine  ? To  answer  this  question  is  to  get  a mental 
foothold  within  the  psychological  significance  of  that  man’s 
work ; and  no  criticism  is  worth  a moment’s  attention 
unless  it  understands  the  personal  equation  revealed  in 
the  emotions  of  an  artist.  Here  is  an  example.  If  you 
compare  George  Mason’s  colliery  girls — “ The  Evening 
Hymn”  — with  any  industrial  picture  by  Constantin 
Meunier,  you  will  find  that  while  the  Englishman  tries  to 
attract  us  with  a feminine  graciousness  and  sympathy,  the 
great  Fleming  is  a Michael  Angelo  of  the  people,  modelling 
his  figures  with  a male  energy,  and  feeling  always  as  a 
strong  man  feels  when  he  has  learnt  to  see  in  human  life 
the  inevitableness  of  incessant  battle  and  suffering.  The 

1 9 1 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

very  title  of  Mason’s  picture 1 would  have  been  offensive  to 
Meunier.  It  appeals  to  the  groundlings,  it  has  no  relation 
whatever  to  the  dramatic  toil  of  a colliery  district ; and 
again,  it  marks  a very  weak  tendency  in  British  art.  Turn 
to  the  catalogues  of  picture  exhibitions,  and  you  will  find 
that  many  of  our  artists  like  sweet  titles  and  pretty  quo- 
tations from  familiar  poetry.  This  feminine  weakness 
astonished  Ary  Renan  seventeen  years  ago,2  because 
foreigners  expect  that  the  most  athletic  nation  in  the  world, 
the  home  of  all  dangerous  sports,  and  the  nursery  for 
adventurous  colonisers,  will  show  in  her  arts  the  heroic 
qualities  that  stand  to  her  credit  historically ; and  when 
they  find  that  gentleness  and  prettiness  are  ideals  in 
British  pictures  they  begin  to  think  that  British  painters 
have  no  stamina,  but  turn  out  playthings  in  order  to  earn 
money. 

It  is  felt  abroad  that  Brangwyn  alone  in  his  work  sym- 
bolises the  daring  manliness  of  the  British  temperament ; 
that  he  alone  represents  his  time  and  race,  showing  courage, 
indomitable  energy,  and  blending  knowledge  of  the  East 

1 I am  not  finding  fault  with  Mason,  whose  work  has  many  gracious  and  winning 
qualities.  My  aim  is  to  point  out  the  fact  that  he,  an  Anglo-Saxon,  was  attracted  by  the 
female  attributes  of  style. 

2 Ary  Renan’s  “ Impressions  of  English  Art  ” were  published  in  the  Pall  Mall 
Gazette.  He  said  : “ I think  that  Punch  will  long  make  merry  over  the  sensational 
titles  of  certain  pictures.  Who  would  suppose,  for  example,  that  ‘The  Interval’  was 
a simple  family  scene;  that  ‘Dead  Heat’  represents  little  dogs;  that  ‘Two  is  Com- 
pany’ represents  sea  birds;  and  ‘The  News  of  Trafalgar’  a woman  at  the  spinning 
wheel  ? . . . I blackened  my  catalogue  with  pencil  marks  against  the  pictures  imitated 
from  those  of  Alma  Tadema.  The  Pompeian  houses,  the  white  marble,  the  rose  leaves, 
the  leopard  skins  ! It  is  really  comic.  Pompeii,  as  you  know,  was  a town  of  pleasure 
and  of  bad  taste.  In  the  houses  that  have  so  much  interest  for  archaeologists,  there 
were  allowed  all  sorts  of  things — hardly  to  be  recommended  ; and  here  is  the  English 
imagination  taking  pagan  Pompeii  as  the  frame  for  a perpetual  sentimental  idyl,  a chaste 
masquerade  !” 

192 


THE  TOW-ROPE. 
From  an  Original  Etching. 


Etchings : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

with  an  intense  sympathy  for  the  grim  stress  and  strain 
of  Western  industrialism.  Good  foreign  critics  see,  no 
doubt,  that  his  ample  style  is  not  yet  fully  matured,  its 
virile  strength  being  somewhat  of  a rebel ; but  they  see 
also  that  there  is  little  hope  for  any  artist  who  in  youth 
turns  away  from  the  development  of  power  to  nurse  the 
feminine  attributes  of  his  genius.  The  creation  of  a style 
is  like  the  building  of  an  obelisk : there  must  be  no  soften- 
ing workmanship  until  the  thing  itself  stands  complete, 
erect  and  commanding. 

But  the  manliness  of  Frank  Brangwyn  is  a singular 
thing — more  impulsive,  more  vehement,  than  that  of  any 
other  artist  in  the  whole  range  of  our  British  schools. 
Compare  him  with  Reynolds,  with  Raeburn,  with  Con- 
stable, with  James  Ward,  whose  manliness  cannot  be 
denied,  and  you  will  find  that  they  have  not  the  instanta- 
neous nerve-force  that  vibrates  through  the  best  Brangwyn 
pictures  and  etchings.  If  you  are  sensitive  to  the  throbbing 
tide  of  energy  in  creative  work,  you  will  find  it  a fatigue 
to  follow  with  dramatic  pleasure  the  constructural  work- 
manship of  two  or  three  Brangwyns  in  a single  sitting.  I 
have  felt  the  same  fatigue  when  watching  a strong  athlete 
run  in  a great  race,  and  there  is,  in  fact,  a certain  resem- 
blance between  the  nervous  energy  of  the  trained  athlete 
and  the  constructive  energy  shown  by  Brangwyn.  The 
danger  in  both  is  that  they  will  exhaust  themselves  too 
early  in  their  race  and  give  way,  spent,  before  the  crisis. 
\\  hen  a ten-miler  tumbles  forward  suddenly,  or  a rower 
falls  over  his  oar,  no  onlooker  complains ; he  has  failed 
nobly  in  a big  effort.  So,  too,  when  we  feel  now  and  then 
in  Brangwyns  work  that  his  nervous  vigour  suddenly 


Frank  "Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 

paused,  hesitated,  broke  off,  we  must  not  dwell  upon  the 
fact  as  a mistake  to  be  criticised,  for  any  temperament 
similar  to  his  cannot  but  be  subject  to  moments  of 
exhaustion. 

The  marvellous  thing  is  that  such  moments  have  been 
infrequent  with  this  great  artist.  Consider  his  work  during 
the  last  eight  years.  It  includes  nearly  two  hundred  etch- 
ings, most  of  them  large  and  scarcely  one  that  is  not  good ; 
the  eleven  panels  at  the  Skinners’  Hall ; decorative  work 
for  two  exhibitions  in  Venice ; holiday  sketches  in  various 
places,  from  Winchelsea  to  Montreuil-sur-Mer,  and  from 
Messina  to  Cahors  ; and  more  than  half-a-dozen  fine 
pictures,  “ The  Rajah’s  Birthday,”  “ The  Return  from  the 
Promised  Land,”  “Wine,”  “The  Cider  Press,”  “The  Card- 
Players,”  “The  Wine  Shop,”  “The  Venetian  Funeral,” 
“ Modern  Commerce,”  and  so  forth.  It  would  be  a life’s 
work  to  many  a painter,  while  to  Brangwyn’s  it  has  been 
an  exhilarating  exercise,  troubled  from  time  to  time — but 
infrequently — by  fatigue. 

So  much  vitality  in  the  nervous  system  is  rare  indeed, 
and  we  may  be  sure  that  it  owes  much  to  the  stamina  that 
Brangwyn  gained  at  sea  from  a hard,  invigorating  life. 
And  from  the  same  influence  he  got  a very  delightful  thing 
in  this  masculine  style  of  his.  Sailors  are  simple-hearted  ; 
the  instincts  of  childhood  are  not  killed  but  kept  alive  by 
the  immense  realities  of  nature ; and  the  survival  of  the 
child  in  those  who  take  what  fortune  sends  them  on  the 
sea  is  beautiful.  Now,  if  you  study  with  care  the  art  of 
Brangwyn,  you  will  find  many  sailor-like  good  points.  It 
is  fresh  and  breezy,  full  of  robust  health,  free  from  pedantry, 
without  vice,  very  brave,  generous,  and  simple-hearted. 

194 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

There  is  also  a feeling  of  wonder,  particularly  in  the  artist’s 
attitude  to  storms.  In  one  etched  plate  he  represents  a 
tempest  passing  over  some  heroic  dark  trees  and  piling 
up  the  clouds  into  squadrons  and  battalions.  The  emotion 
here  is  wonder,  awe,  such  as  no  mere  landsman  feels  to-day. 
It  is  a primitive  emotion,  that  does  not  long  co-exist  with 
the  sheltering  artificialities  of  life  in  ordered  communities. 

But  I am  told  that  Brangwyn  is  too  masculine,  that 
he  is  not  concerned  enough  with  the  graciousness  of 
women.  This  depends  on  the  spectator.  The  useful 
and  necessary  thing  is  to  accept  from  each  artist  the 
best  that  he  has  to  give  ; and  at  a time  when  the  great 
majority  of  British  painters  and  etchers  develop  the 
feminine  side  of  art,  we  are  lucky  to  have  one  in  whom 
the  male  attributes  of  power  are  always  dominant  and 
simple-hearted.  These  qualities  run  through  all  the 
Brangwyn  etchings,  and  you  will  find,  too,  that  they 
have  the  inner  grace  of  manhood — sympathy  for  those 
who  are  fallen,  pity  for  distress.  Not  sentimental  pity, 
but  a pity  that  comes  near  to  tragedy,  so  deep  and  true 
is  the  feeling  shown  in  its  presentation. 

As  an  example  of  this  I will  instance  the  “ Old 
Women  of  Bruges,”  and  “ The  Tow-Rope.”  This  last 
represents  five  men  straining  mechanically  at  a rope  on 
the  edge  of  a canal  at  Bruges.  They  have  been  fit  for 
no  other  work  since  they  were  first  able  to  pull  a barge 
through  the  water  ; they  look  less  intelligent  than  pit- 
ponies,  for  there  is  no  danger  to  set  their  thoughts  astir. 
Each  mind  is  dazed  or  deadened  by  the  slow,  plodding 
routine  of  automatic  labour.  The  very  creases  in  their 
clothes  show  the  dogged  repetition  of  the  same  heavy 

x95 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  If^ork 

movements  day  after  day.  The  realism  here  is  strongly 
grim,  pathetic,  and  monumental.  The  subject  would 
have  attracted  Meunier,  but  its  realisation  is  a rapid 
masterpiece  by  Brangwyn,  etched  on  the  spot  in  1906. 

Nor  must  we  forget  the  penetrating  sympathy  that 
this  great  observer  shows  in  his  etched  work  for  down- 
at-heels  and  beggars.  He  has  never  forgotten  his  early 
struggles,  the  days  when  he  was  often  so  hungry  that 
he  was  glad  to  help  in  the  unloading  of  a vessel.  Those 
who  have  felt  real  poverty,  who  remember  how  the  rats 
of  hunger  gnaw  in  the  stomach,  understand  all  outcasts, 
and  recognise  that  beggars  are  their  kinsmen.  The 
mendicants  in  Brangwyn’s  etchings  are  of  many  types, 
some  sketched  with  irony  because  they  are  shamming 
to  be  lame  or  blind,  while  others  belong  to  the  un- 
doubted shreds  and  patches  of  humanity  who  find 
warmth  and  solace  in  dirt,  and  whose  clothes  are  as 
eloquent  as  their  faces  and  hands. 

Nomads,  too,  have  a peculiar  interest  to  Brangwyn ; 
the  nomads  that  visit  fairs  and  earn  their  bread  as 
wrestlers  or  jugglers  or  musicians ; and  in  one  magni- 
ficent plate,  “The  Cathedral  Church  of  Eu,”  he  groups 
these  wayfarers  with  their  booths  in  the  historic  shadow 
of  a vast  old  building.  The  sun  illumines  the  mediaeval 
architecture,  and  below,  sketched  with  an  art  as  typical 
as  Daumier’s,  is  a little  Kermesse  busy  with  human 
puppets,  whose  little  amusements  go  on  from  age  to 
age,  and  grow  not  a bit  older  than  that  grand  history  in 
chiselled  stone. 

2.  Modern  Life  and  IVork. — There  are  many  artists  in 
England  who  do  not  even  try  to  interpret  the  great  human 
1 96 


THE  SAWYERS. 
From  an  Original  El  chi 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

realities  that  they  see  around  them.  Their  art  is  not  even 
city-bred  ; it  stays  at  home,  it  occupies  itself  with  problems 
of  indoor  light,  and  mistakes  virtuosity  for  life  and  its 
time-spirit.  This  school  has  many  friends  among  the 
writers  on  art,  but  it  has  no  staying  power.  Virtuosity 
is  not  at  all  likely  to  hold  the  field  against  the  great 
actions  of  mankind  interpreted  by  such  masters  as  Millet, 
Meunier,  Degroux,  Brangwyn,  Laermans,  La  Thangue, 
Clausen,  Legros,  and  other  members  of  the  democracy  of 
art.  But  there  is  one  point  that  we  must  keep  in  mind 
when  we  are  told  that  the  interpretation  of  contemporary 
life  is  sure  to  triumph  over  virtuosity.  The  time-spirit 
acts  in  two  ways  on  those  who  represent  it  in  the  fine 
arts.  In  some  it  produces  a conscious  striving,  while  in 
others  it  finds  temperaments  so  well  prepared  for  it  that 
the  time-spirit  seems  to  be  the  artist,  doing  its  work 
through  human  agents  or  mediums.  Millet  was  deeply 
conscious  of  what  he  wished  to  do,  and  could  talk  about 
his  aims  with  the  enthusiasm  of  a literary  man,  while 
Meunier  worked  out  his  destiny  in  silence,  unconscious  of 
the  revolution  in  aesthetics  that  his  paintings  and  bronzes 
denoted.  Millet  used  the  time-spirit,  Meunier  was  its 
agent.  And  we  may  regard  these  two  noble  men  as 
marking  two  distinct  types  of  art  in  what  we  call  the 
presentation  of  contemporary  life. 

One  type  is  much  nearer  than  the  other  to  the  primitive 
expression  of  emotion  in  art ; nearer,  for  instance,  to  the 
birth  of  sculpture  and  painting  among  the  realists  of  the 
Mammoth  Time,  who,  on  days  when  the  weather  was  too 
bad  for  sport,  painted  the  walls  of  their  caves  with  figures 
of  animals,  or  carved  mammoth  teeth  into  female  figures. 

197 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  IFork 

That  lover  of  the  old  Stone  Age  who  chipped  out  the 
Venus  of  Brassempuoy  was  a Meunier,  and,  relatively, 
he  was  greater  than  Meunier,  for  he  began  his  work  in 
ignorance,  and  won  his  own  methods  from  the  dark  of 
inexperience.  Emotion,  observation,  patience,  these  were 
his  only  guides  ; and  to  this  day  they  remain  the  basis  of  all 
great  art.  But,  as  we  know,  civilisation  not  only  produces 
styles  and  traditions,  it  treasures  their  work  from  age 
to  age,  so  that  each  to-day  becomes  a museum  for  each 
yesterday.  Art  is  a figure  with  two  profiles,  one  gazing 
towards  the  past,  the  other  towards  the  future ; and  because 
it  is  always  easier  to  copy  than  to  pass  through  fresh  experi- 
ments into  new  discoveries,  we  find  that  the  repetitions  of 
virtuosity  are  always  more  common  and  more  popular 
than  the  works  of  a Meunier,  whose  intercourse  with  life 
is  not  only  direct  and  intimate  but  primitively  ingenuous. 
Meunier  was  a collier  of  colliers,  and  his  mind  being 
as  naive  as  a child’s,  he  delighted  to  be  loyal  to  his 
feelings. 

Brangwyn  belongs  to  the  same  rare  type  of  natural 
artist.  Though  critics  have  tried  to  harry  him  into  habits 
of  self-fear,  he  is  still  what  he  was  in  his  early  marine 
pictures — a simple-hearted  observer,  with  an  inborn  sym- 
pathy for  the  drama  in  things  seen,  and  a native  command 
over  the  implements  of  art.  His  work  is  hot  emotion. 
It  is  not  possible  for  him  to  be  anything  but  modern. 
The  historical  panels  at  the  Skinners’  Hall  are  as  modern 
in  spirit  as  his  etchings,  and  for  the  same  reason ; he 
belongs  to  his  own  time,  he  is  an  agent  of  its  genius. 

To  one  characteristic  of  his  modernity  I have  re- 
ferred in  another  chapter  (p.  169),  giving  a quotation  from 
198 


Etchings : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

M.  Henri  Marcel  ; it  is  the  intensely  dramatic  significance 
that  Brangwyn  sees  in  the  contrast  between  little  men  and 
huge  machines.  But  we  must  notice  also  in  the  etchings 
that  his  sympathies  are  drawn  towards  everything  that  has 
an  outstanding  symbolism  in  the  drama  of  human  life; 
to  bridges,  for  example,  because  the  mind  can  look  across 
them  into  the  familiar  past  and  forward  into  the  unknown  ; 
to  old  churches  whose  bells  still  chime  with  the  youth  of 
faith  ; and  to  windmills  that  bicker  slowly  as  they  grind 
corn  into  flour.  Over  these  things  he  throws  a quite 
wonderful  glamour  of  austere  romance.  A strange  imagi- 
nation— it  is  often  quite  uncanny — dwells  in  the  august 
patterning  of  the  light  and  shade.  Subjects  that  seem 
quite  trivial  when  they  are  mentioned  by  their  titles  assume 
under  the  magic  of  his  art  a visionary  greatness.  You 
know  “The  Butcher’s  Shop,”  of  course?  It  represents  a 
low  shed  flanked  by  two  immense  tree-trunks  upon  which 
the  sunlight  plays,  so  that  their  age  and  decrepitude  look 
spectral.  One  tree  is  leafless,  while  the  other  still  keeps 
a mass  of  foliage  that  hangs  over  the  timber  shed.  From 
trunk  to  trunk  stretches  a pole  with  two  pigs’  heads  fas- 
tened to  it  as  a trade  sign.  Under  them,  dressed  in  a 
smock,  the  butcher  stands,  in  sunlight,  looking  towards 
his  right  with  expectation  ; and  behind  him,  dimly,  from 
a chaos  of  transparent  dark  shadows  flecked  with  sunny 
patches,  several  things  emerge — a sheep’s  carcase  hanging 
from  the  pole,  and  some  human  figures.  What  does  he 
expect,  that  butcher?  For  whom  does  he  wait?  Is  he  to 
be  met  with  on  Wormwood  Scrubbs,  as  a prosaic  catalogue 
invites  us  to  believe?  If  Edgar  Poe  had  seen  this  etching, 
he  could  not  have  failed  to  write  a story  about  its  peculiar 

l99 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  Work 

loneliness.  As  one  looks,  the  sunlight  turns  into  moon- 
light, and  those  huge  trees — contrasted  with  the  trivial  little 
foolish  shed,  and  suggesting  a life  many  hundreds  of  years  old 
— become  almost  supernatural.  One  never  knows  precisely 
why  a great  artist  chose  a given  subject ; he  was  moved 
by  something  in  its  aspect,  and  his  emotion  did  not  awaken 
the  brain-centre  of  speech,  it  found  expression  for  itself  in 
the  pattern-work  of  light  and  shade  and  form.  This  we 
know ; but  I have  an  idea  in  my  mind  that  this  etching, 
“The  Butcher’s  Shop,”  belongs  to  the  superstition  that 
Welshmen  have  nursed  in  their  rugged  hills  and  valleys 
from  time  immemorial. 

For  the  rest,  there  is  an  opulent  variety  in  Brangwyn’s 
etched  work.  Several  plates,  and  notably  the  “ Market 
Square,  Montreuil,”  and  “The  Brewery,  Bruges,”  show 
that  his  hand  can  be  as  light  as  Whistler’s,  while  keeping 
its  own  sign  manual.  Elsewhere,  as  in  the  romantic 
etching  of  “ Old  Hammersmith,”  with  its  shadowed  fore- 
ground where  bargemen  rest  and  talk,  with  its  middle 
distance  of  sunlit  carts,  horses,  and  figures,  there  is  a pro- 
fusion of  detail  treated  with  a Mdryon-like  precision,  and 
the  factories  against  the  sky  are  as  attractive  in  their 
sunny  magic  as  ancient  churches.  But  it  is  not  fair  to  pick 
out  examples  when  all  is  good  in  its  own  way.  A de- 
scriptive list  has  been  published  of  one  hundred  and  thirty- 
three,  including  such  noble  proofs  as  “The  Santa  Maria 
della  Salute,  Venice,”  “ The  Ghent  Gate,  Bruges,”  “ The 
Gate  of  Montreuil-sur-Mer,”  and  “The  Mill  Bridge,  Mont- 
reuil,” “The  Black  Mill,  Winchelsea,”  “The  Castello  della 
Ziza,  Palermo,”  “The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle,”  “The  Coal- 
Pit,”  with  its  procession  of  workmen  carrying  the  wounded, 
200 


OLD  HAMMERSMITH. 
From  an  Original  Etching. 


(Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

“Old  Kew  Bridge,”  “The  Paper  Mill,”  with  its  exquisite 
diffused  light,  “The  Rialto,  Venice,”  and  “The  Boat- 
Builders,  Venice,”  “ Windmills,  Bruges,”  “ The  Sawyers,” 
“Old  Houses,  Ghent,”  “The  Church  of  Sainte-Saulve, 
Montreuil,”  and  “The  Church  of  Sainte-Austreberthe, 
Montreuil,”  “Santa  Sophia,  Constantinople,”  “Building  the 
New  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum,  South  Kensington,” 
“The  Tan-Pit,”  “The  Breaking  up  of  the  Hannibal ,”  and 
“ Breaking  up  the  Caledonia? ’ These  etchings,  and  many 
others,  have  been  exhibited  many  times ; and  as  to  the 
more  recent  work — at  Dixmude,  at  Furnes,  at  Eu,  at 
Messina — it  will  soon  be  as  well  known.  “ The  Apse  of 
the  Cathedral  at  Messina”  is  a masterpiece;  it  should 
hang  as  a pendant  with  “The  Cathedral  of  Eu.” 

Among  the  foreign  devotees  of  Brangwyn  there  are 
critics  who  say  that  his  etchings  are  even  more  note- 
worthy than  his  pictures  and  mural  decorations.  M.  T. 
Desteve  has  expressed  this  opinion,  speaking  of  the 
“ somptueuses  gravures  ou  Brangwyn  se  rdvdle  a mes 
yeux  plus  grand  artiste  encore  que  dans  ses  peintures, 
pages  gravies  dblouissantes  et  profondes,  mystdrieuses  et 
emouvantes  ou  son  dtrange  genie  de  visionnaire  se  mani- 
feste  victorieusement.”  From  the  very  first  foreign  con- 
noisseurs have  been  fascinated  by  the  etchings,  and  in  a 
list  of  public  galleries  having  proofs  we  can  place  already 
the  names  of  Barcelona,  Berlin,  Bremen,  Brussels,  Buda- 
pest, Buenos  Ayres,  Christiania,  Dresden,  Elberfeld, 
Frankfurt,  Gothenburg,  Hamburg,  Lugano,  Malmo, 
Milan,  Miihlhausen,  Munich,  Naples,  Paris,  Rome,  Stock- 
holm, South  Kensington,  Stuttgart,  Vienna,  and  Ziirich. 

So  the  etchings,  like  the  first  sea-pictures  and  the  later 
2 c 201 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  W^ork 

paintings  soon  won  for  themselves  a reputation  far  outside 
Great  Britain.  They  are  among  the  emissaries  of  peace 
that  soothe  international  jealousies.  They  belong  to  a 
universal  language  that  finds  concord  in  rivalry  and  good- 
will in  success.  There  was  no  protest  this  year  from 
Austrian  artists  when  their  Emperor  granted  his  Great 
Gold  Medal  of  Honour  to  a Brangwyn  etching,  “The 
Bridge  of  Sighs.”  It  is  only  among  our  own  writers 
on  art  that  we  find,  here  and  there,  a stereotyped 
hostility  to  Frank  Brangwyn.  But  foes  do  not  matter 
when  friends  remain  loyal,  and  the  most  wide-minded 
critic,  Mr.  Claude  Phillips,  is  on  the  right  side.  From 
the  Daily  Telegraph , March  26,  1908,  I take  the 

following  paragraph  : — 

“ Mr.  Brangwyn  takes  rank  now  among  the  most 
original  artists  of  modern  Europe ; he  is  certainly  better 
understood  and  more  highly  appreciated  in  France  and 
Italy’  than  at  home.  He  has  invented  for  himself  an  art 
of  decoration,  which  is,  at  the  same  time,  one  of  a lofty 
and  tragic  realism  ; he  has  so  generalised,  broadened,  and 
emphasised  in  their  great  outlines  the  elements  of  every- 
day humanity  and  its  bustling  surroundings,  that  in  his 
hands  they  acquire  naturally  a monumental  and  symbolical 
character.  And  this  he  has  been  able  to  do  without  muting 
the  audacity,  without  dimming  the  brilliancy  of  his  decora- 
tive effects,  which,  in  their  tawny  splendour,  are  often 
those  of  stained  glass  rather  than  true  painting.  To  annex 
modern  man  and  his  modern  surroundings  instead  of 
shunning  and  despising  him,  to  show'  the  greatness  and 

1 This  applies  also  to  Germany,  to  Belgium,  to  Austria,  and — in  a lesser  degree— to 
Spain. 


202 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

the  passion,  even  the  beauty  and  the  rhythm  that  are 
latent  in  that  which  faces  us  every  day — this  has  been 
Mr.  Brangwyn’s  lofty  aim  in  his  later  and  more  ambitious 
works  of  the  decorative  order.  This  turbulence,  this 
passion  to  re-create,  to  present  in  a new  light  and  with 
a new  significance,  shows  itself  in  a wholly  different 
fashion  in  the  etchings  on  a large  scale  which  play  a 
prominent  part  in  the  present  exhibition.1  Here  it  is 
himself  above  all,  his  own  artistic  emotion,  his  own 
temperament,  that  he  strives  through  these  sombre  etched 
poems  of  the  outer  world  to  bring  to  the  surface.  From 
every  point  of  view  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  art  calls  for  serious 
consideration  and  that  sympathy  without  which  there 
can  be  disintegrating  criticism,  but  no  true  comprehen- 
sion. At  this  stage  of  his  career  Mr.  Brangwyn  has 
victoriously  asserted  the  right,  which  should  be  accorded 
to  all  really  original  artists,  to  use  his  own  technical 
methods  for  complete  self-interpretation.” 

Among  the  many  studies  which  have  been  written  about 
the  Brangwyn  etchings,  it  is  very  pleasant  to  remember 
the  vivid  impressionism  of  Mr.  Haldane  Macfall,  who  has 
followed  with  keen  enthusiasm  the  progress  of  Brangwyn’s 
work  from  the  days  of  the  later  sea-pictures.  Mr.  Macfall 
says  : “ Here  is  a hand  that  moves  to  the  ordering  of  a 
majestic  vision  ; the  musical  sense  that  is  in  line  and  mass 
is  seen  ranging  through  a wide  gamut,  and  the  result  is 
not  only  as  of  an  instrument  played  by  a master-hand, 
but  of  a full  orchestra,  rich  in  deep,  sonorous  harmonies. 
Whistler  had  led  us  almost  to  believe  that  etching  could 
be  only  a dainty  thing — he  set  up  the  axiom  to  conceal 

1 At  the  Fine  Art  Society. 


203 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

his  own  limitations.  Mr.  Brangwyn  flings  Whistler’s 
laws  to  the  winds,  and  using  large  or  small  plates  just 
as  they  suit  his  mood  and  are  fit  to  express  his  intentions, 
he  makes  etching  yield  up  majestic  qualities  which  were 
utterly  beyond  Whistler’s  range. 

“ In  delicacy  and  subtlety,  Whistler  was  without  a 
rival  in  his  day.  Yet  even  in  these  qualities  and  in 
tenderness,  Mr.  Brangwyn  gives  us  so  exquisite  an 
example  — the  beautiful  plate  entitled  ‘ The  Brewery,. 
Bruges,  No.  2 ’ — that  he  seems  to  have  wrought  it  in 
order  to  warn  us  that  he  is  a wizard,  when  he  wills,  in 
delicatesse.  The  softness  of  the  smoke,  the  steely  glitter 
of  the  water,  the  subtle  beauty  of  the  whole  thing  are 
very  perfect.  But  he  is  here  more  generally  concerned 
with  moods  of  grandeur  and  power.  . . . There  is  a 
largeness,  an  inimitable  sense  of  grandeur,  in  all  that  this 
artist  does  ; and  it  is  a vast  quality  that  has  been  pitifully 
lacking  in  our  native  art.  Mr.  Brangwyn  is  the  first 
British  painter,  save  only  Turner,  who  has  been  granted 
this  splendid  gift.  And  how  inherent  this  sense  of  the 
grand  manner  is  in  him,  we  may  see  in  his  etchings  and 
in  his  many  moods.  Nothing  could  be  more  profoundly 
solemn  than  his  etching  of  a ‘ Windmill  at  Bruges  ’ — 
the  high  building  with  its  sails  . . . springs  upwards 
with  a majestic  dignity,  as  though  it  realised  in  some 
strange  fashion  its  great  importance,  standing  there  against 
the  immensity  of  the  firmament,  inviting  with  giant 
arrogance  the  stormy  blasts  that  threaten  out  of  the 
sombre  miles  of  hollowness.  This  is  no  mere  picture- 
making. It  is  the  very  intensity  of  nature,  and  of  man’s 
work  in  nature,  wrought  into  poetic  expression.” 

204 


SANTA  MARIA  DELLA  SALUTE 


Etchings  : and  Summary  of  Characteristics 

One  might  quote  from  many  other  writers,  British 
and  foreign,  but  the  gist  of  the  whole  matter  is  simply 
this — that  Brangwyn  appeals  to  everybody  who  enjoys 
the  spirit  of  strife  that  man  must  share  with  nature.  This 
note  of  virile  endeavour,  this  militancy  in  brave  action, 
is  seldom  found  among  British  artists,  because  art  with  us 
is  rarely  a dweller  in  the  thronged  highways  of  life ; it 
fears  invigorating  gusts  of  rude  air  from  the  outside  welter 
of  human  realities.  Millet’s  criticism  on  the  delicate 
peasant-girls  painted  by  Jules  Breton — “They  are  too 
pretty  to  stay  in  the  village ! ” — is  one  that  many  British 
artists  ought  always  to  remember,  because  their  styles 
are  too  dainty  to  be  in  touch  with  the  living  forces 
of  society. 


205 


CHAPTER  XV 


DESIGNS  FOR  HOUSE  FURNISHING 

IS  there  any  real  danger  in  the  natural  versatility  of 
Frank  Brangwyn  ? Till  now  it  has  been  successful, 
but  the  vigour  of  youth  has  helped  it  greatly,  and 
youth  slips  away  unperceived.  There  are  also  two 
other  facts  that  we  are  called  upon  to  remember  here 
since  we  are  trying  to  understand  the  aims  and  works 
of  a man  of  genius.  The  first  one  is  this  — that 
versatility,  at  the  present  time,  is  mistrusted ; it  never 
fails  to  encounter  a dogged  opposition  from  the  public. 
Next,  work  has  become  subdivided,  not  because  any 
man  is  satisfied  with  a narrow  specialism,  but  because 
to-day’s  life  is  so  hurried  and  so  agitated  that  a mind 
loses  grip  when  its  energies  try  year  after  year  to  con- 
centrate in  prolonged  efforts  on  many  branches  of  one 
study.  Artists  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  not  troubled  by 
telegrams  and  telephones,  by  a postal  service  all  day  long, 
by  a newspaper  press  and  its  sharpshooters,  by  facilities 
of  travel  to  lands  far  off,  by  rushed  journeys  to  and  fro 
in  vast  cities,  and  by  a host  of  other  hindrances  to  con- 
centrated thought  and  purpose.  There  comes  a time 
when  even  the  most  virile  and  versatile  genius  must 
limit  the  scope  of  its  efforts  or  else  pay  the  lasting 
penalty  of  overstrain  ; and  so  I am  happy  to  know  that 
Brangwyn,  having  passed  through  a rich  period  of 
206 


Designs  for  House  Furnishing 

multiform  successes,  will  decline  henceforth  to  be  tempted 
away  from  his  main  work. 

After  his  association  with  William  Morris  it  was 
natural  that  his  aptitude  for  constructive  designing  should 
be  used  while  he  painted  large  pictures  that  not  only  made 
great  calls  on  a slender  purse,  they  did  not  always  pay 
their  expenses  even  when  they  found  buyers.  Laymen  do 
not  realise  an  artist’s  cost  of  production,  not  in  materials 
only,  but  in  frames,  in  agents’  fees,  in  packing-cases  and 
their  travelling  expenses,  and  in  the  commissions  charged 
on  sales  at  all  picture  galleries.  When  a young  man  can 
do  nothing  else  except  paint,  when  he  has  not  that 
mechanical  faculty  of  mind  that  grips  the  technical  and 
constructional  problems  of  design  and  handicraft,  he  needs  a 
private  income  to  help  him  through  his  first  struggles.  It 
was  lucky  that  Brangwyn  found  it  quite  an  easy  task  to 
master  the  art  of  wooden  furniture,  to  experiment  in  the 
technique  of  glass  windows,  and  to  apply  the  principles 
of  design  to  other  materials.  I have  studied  these  matters 
for  twenty-three  years,  writing  about  them  often,  and 
Brangwyn  appeals  to  me  strongly  in  most  of  his  original 
experiments.  I do  not  say  that  his  wooden  furniture — 
his  tables,  chairs,  and  cabinets — are  equal  to  Mr.  Gimson’s, 
nor  is  it  right  to  contrast  their  work,  for  Mr.  Gimson  has 
his  own  workshops,  like  Chippendale,  like  Heppelwhite, 
while  Brangwyn  has  been  handicapped  by  designing  for 
artisans  in  the  employ  of  manufacturers. 

Even  so,  he  has  obtained  very  good  results,  and  among 
them  is  a fine  billiard-table  and  cue-cabinet,  which  may 
be  seen  at  Messrs  Thurston’s.  It  is  not  a billiard-table 
with  several  bulbous  calves  on  each  of  its  eight  legs,  you 

207 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

may  be  sure,  nor  is  it  made  of  bay  wood — an  inferior  kind 
of  mahogany  grown  in  Honduras,  that  cabinetmakers 
generally  use  to-day,  the  real  Cuban  mahogany  being  rare 
and  costly.  Billiard-tables  of  bay  wood  are  as  common 
as  London  ’buses,  and  very  often  as  ungainly.  Messrs. 
Thurston  are  aware  of  this,  and  wish  to  bring  in  a better 
taste,  but  I fear  they  will  have  a long  and  hard  fight,  owing 
to  the  iron  conservatism  of  billiard  players.  Brangwyn 
designed  a whole  billiard-room,  with  panelled  walls  and  a 
painted  frieze,  unstained  English  oak  to  be  used  for  all  the 
woodwork.  The  room  has  not  yet  been  done,  but  the  table 
and  cabinets  are  finished,  and  their  workmanship  through- 
out could  not  well  be  bettered.  Two  problems  of  design 
have  to  be  solved  in  designing  a billiard-table : how  to 
scheme  plenty  of  visible  support  for  the  heavy  slate  bed, 
without  inconveniencing  the  players,  and  yet  give  elegance 
to  a cumbersome  piece  of  furniture.  Brangwyn  has  cracked 
these  hard  nuts,  and  his  method  is  modern  and  attractive. 
There  is  no  waste  of  wood  ; the  legs  are  square  in  section  ; 
and  struts  run  from  leg  to  leg,  and  each  strut  from  its 
centre  is  connected  to  the  woodwork  above  by  three  up- 
rights placed  about  two  inches  apart.  This  arrangement 
is  quite  new  ; it  satisfies  the  eye,  and  as  the  two  central 
legs  on  each  side  are  placed  inwards  a little,  and  therefore 
on  a different  plane  from  the  corner  legs,  no  person  can 
knock  his  knee  against  the  additional  woodwork.  A pro- 
fessional player  expressed  doubt  on  this  point,  but  he  had 
no  fault  to  find  when  he  tried  the  table. 

Equally  difficult  was  the  bedroom  designed  for  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  E.  J.  Davis  at  their  house  in  Lansdowne 
Road,  Bayswater.  This  piece  of  work  is  very  well 
208 


^Designs  for  House  Furnishing 

known  ; indeed,  so  much  has  been  written  about  it,  both 
by  myself  and  by  many  others,  that  nothing  new  and 
true  remains  to  be  said — except  this,  that  few  house- 
holders have  accepted  its  lesson  of  simple  strength,  of 
good  citizen’s  furnishing.  The  chairs  are  neither  too 
heavy  nor  too  light,  and  their  construction  is  plain  as 
well  as  handsome,  so  that  their  manufacture  is  not  a 
luxurious  job  for  workmen  having  uncommon  skill. 
Brangwyn  does  not  like  the  reversed  curves  that  Chip- 
pendale in  his  first  period  borrowed  from  the  French, 
and  that  gave  a sort  of  restlessness  to  furniture.  He 
prefers  the  repose  of  upright  lines,  relieved  by  quiet 
inlay  and  by  curved  arms  to  the  chairs.  The  treatment 
of  inlay  is  always  very  important.  It  must  keep  its 
plane,  and  not  start  out  from  the  surface  of  the  wood 
surrounding  it,  as  happens  frequently  in  Dutch  cabinet- 
work and  usually  in  British  commercial  furniture. 
Brangwyn  inlays  show  much  fancy,  and  their  setting 
is  wrell  in  accord  with  the  proper  principles  of  the  art 
of  applied  ornament.  Sometimes  he  contrasts  ebony 
with  other  woods,  as  in  his  billiard-table,  and  the  dark 
colour  is  a pleasant  foil  to  natural  oak — that  is,  to  oak 
not  fumed,  but  deepened  in  tone  by  the  action  of  day- 
light. A little  beeswax  and  turpentine,  with  rubbing, 
are  all  that  fine  woods  need  in  the  way  of  polish. 
Brangwyn  vrould  never  spoil  his  furniture  with  naphtha 
and  shellac  mixed  together,  nor  with  that  horrible 
treacle-like  polish,  so  beloved  by  most  shopkeepers, 
that  seems  intended  as  a trap  for  insects  or  as  a 
mirror  in  which  the  female  flies  can  admire  their  beauty. 
Nor  would  he  darken  good  oak  by  subjecting  it  to  the 
2 D 209 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  VFork 

fumes  of  liquid  ammonia,  or  by  treating  it  with  a 

solution  of  chromate  of  potash,  by  which  light-tinted 
woods  are  now  “ converted  ” into  mahogany ! 

In  his  work  for  Mr.  Davis  the  use  of  wood  entered 
into  every  part  of  Brangwyn’s  scheme.  The  first 

question  to  be  considered  was  practical  in  a general 

way : What  are  the  qualities  of  a good  bedroom  ? 

Freshness  and  airiness ; the  scheme  of  colour  should  be 
pale  and  yet  rich,  then  it  will  please  the  eye  without 
seeming  to  lessen  the  size  of  your  bedroom.  Oak  would 
look  rather  stubborn,  walnut  and  mahogany  would  be  too 
heavy  in  tone  ; satinwood  might  appear  too  glossy  in  its 
delicate  charm,  too  superfine ; so  Brangwyn  decided  that 
cherry  wood — beautiful  in  texture,  pale  and  warm  in  tint — 
would  be  most  appropriate. 

This  point  decided,  others  began  to  bid  for  attention. 
What  was  the  main  fault  in  a modern  bed  ? Did  it 
not  leave  too  much  space  between  the  mattress  and  the 
floor,  making  a sort  of  extra  cupboard  for  odds  and 
ends  of  luggage  ? Dust  accumulates  there,  for  even  the 
best  modern  servant  cannot  be  expected  to  clear  away 
unseen  hindrances  to  her  work  of  dusting  and  sweeping. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  must  be  space  enough  under  the 
bed  to  give  freedom  to  a broom,  whether  pneumatic  or  not. 

Again,  parquet  flooring  would  be  easier  to  dust 
than  a carpet,  and  a rug  could  be  placed  wherever  it 
was  needed.  But  the  principal  thing  of  all  was  the 
background — the  walls,  which,  in  most  houses,  are 
treated  as  a much-bepatterned  foreground,  in  the  midst 
of  which  a pretty  woman  in  evening  dress  looks  almost 
unimportant.  The  outstanding  rule  in  the  treatment  of 


F)e  signs  for  House  Furnishing 

domestic  walls  is  to  be  afraid  of  reticulated  pattern.  I 
have  said  this  in  a good  many  books,  but  it  can  never 
be  repeated  too  often,  for  modern  shopkeepers  believe 
in  pattern,  pattern  everywhere,  all  realistic  and  obtrusive. 
There  is  not  a patterned  paper  in  Brangwyn’s  own 
house ; all  the  walls  are  silent  in  nondescript  tints  of  a 
pleasant  hue — cool,  but  not  cold.  He  likes  the  grey 
warmth  of  ripe  English  corn,  and  he  has  a great  liking 
for  painted  friezes,  like  those  which  he  has  carried  out 
at  Venice  in  the  dining-room  of  the  Palazzo  Rezzonico, 
or  like  the  silvery-toned  one  in  Mr.  Davis’s  bedroom. 
The  Venetian  frieze  has  been  very  well  summed  up  by 
Mr.  Gerald  C.  Horsley,  F.R.I.B.A.,  who  says : “ Here 
is  a treatment  of  panelling  and  woodwork  that  is  all 
the  artist’s  own  ; and  it  depends  for  its  fulfilment  upon 
a splendid  frieze  of  painted  subjects.  This  scheme,  indi- 
vidual though  it  is,  recalls,  by  its  arrangement  of  panel- 
ling below  and  paintings  above,  the  beautiful  rooms  at 
Venice  of  San  Giorgio  dei  Schiavoni  by  Carpaccio,  and 
the  exquisite  cabinet  built  to  receive  the  pictures  by 
Mantegna.”  The  work,  then,  is  not  outside  the  tradition 
of  Venetian  decoration  ; and  we  find  in  the  bedroom 
also  a proper  adaptation  of  design  to  the  needs  of  a given 
environment. 

Besides  the  frieze  there  are  paintings  of  the  Twelve 
Months,  not  hung  up  in  gilt  frames,  but  enniched  in  bands 
of  wood  that  run  from  the  skirting  to  the  frieze-rail  and 
divide  the  walls  into  compartments.  In  each  decorative 
picture  the  colour  is  a happy  arrangement  of  silver-greys 
with  other  delicate  hues,  that  harmonise  richly  with  a dove- 
tinted  paper,  forming  plain  spaces  of  light  greyish-brown 

21  I 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  PFork 

between  the  panelled  bands.  The  same  care  and  taste  are 
shown  in  the  chased-metal  fittings,  all  of  oxidised  silver ; 
and  the  fireplace,  that  faces  the  bed,  has  a simple  over- 
mantel of  cherrywood,  enriched  with  a little  inlay,  and 
divided  into  useful  cupboards. 

I have  now  to  speak  of  the  work  done  in  Paris  for 
the  late  M.  Bing,  a man  of  many  gifts,  and  always  a firm 
believer  in  Brangwyn.  Their  friendship  began  in  1895, 
when  the  old  house  in  the  Rue  de  Provence  was  trans- 
formed into  L’Art  Nouveau.  Of  one  portion  of  this  work 
I have  spoken  (p.  133),  and  we  have  now  to  consider  the 
textile  fabrics,  tapestries,  carpets,  rugs,  and  the  designs 
for  stained-glass  windows.  I cannot  describe  either  the 
carpets  or  the  rugs,  but  you  would  like  to  own  them.  They 
would  look  well  in  any  light,  would  not  clash  with  any 
good  scheme  of  colour  in  the  walls,  and  more  important 
still,  would  help  you  to  respect  the  guiding  principle  of 
floor  decoration — namely,  that  carpets  and  rugs  must  be  in 
harmonious  contrast  with  your  walls.  Ladies  are  very  apt 
to  forget  this  principle.  They  very  often  like  “tints  that 
match,”  and  carry  shades  of  the  same  colour  throughout 
their  rooms.  The  harmony  of  friendly  opposition  does  not 
appeal  to  them  as  a rule — I mean  in  decoration.  A distin- 
guished Belgian  expert,  M.  H.  Fidrens-Gevaert,  has  said 
of  Brangwyn’s  carpets  that  since  the  great  Persian  period, 
no  one  seems  to  have  done  better  in  this  line  ; and  certainly 
the  colours  and  designs  mark,  as  it  were,  a new  and  charm- 
ing orientalism. 

One  excellent  piece  of  work  is  neither  a carpet  nor  a 
tapestry,  but  a beautiful  wall-hanging  based  on  the  vine — 
its  grapes,  leaves,  tendrils  and  stems,  all  treated  with  a 
212 


‘Designs  for  House  Furnishing 

very  happy  appreciation  for  the  conventionalism  of  applied 
design.  It  is  quite  astonishingly  able — what  the  French 
call  a coup  de  malt  re , a master-stroke.  At  Paris  it  was 
known  as  a carpet,  as  if  any  person  of  taste  in  the  decora- 
tive arts  would  ever  wish  to  tread  underfoot  a patterning 
of  grapes  and  vine-leaves.  Brangwyn,  of  course,  intended 
his  work  as  an  ornament  for  walls,  keeping  his  formal 
arrangements  of  colour  for  his  rugs  and  carpets. 

It  is  astonishing  how  reluctant  many  people  are  to 
accept  the  logical  principle  that  a pattern  must  be  fit  for 
its  purpose.  Even  Ruskin  was  Early  Victorian  in  this 
matter,  for  he  liked  to  walk  on  flower-bedecked  carpets,  as 
if  roses  were  meant  to  be  trodden  upon.  When  once  you 
accept  such  an  unfortunate  covering  for  a floor,  you  should 
go  a step  or  two  farther,  and  order  a carpet  covered  with 
vegetables.  Why,  a sheet  of  blue  water  dappled  with 
battleships  would  be  a still  greater  novelty,  and  not  worse 
in  principle. 

As  to  tapestries,  they  are  mosaics  of  colour  made  up  of 
dyed  threads,  and  the  warp  being  quite  hidden,  the  colours 
are  as  solid  as  paint  is  on  canvas.  In  Gothic  tapestries 
the  style  is  rarely  too  pictorial,  while  an  excess  of  realism 
is  usually  found  in  post- Gothic  examples.  Brangwyn 
wished  to  avoid  this  error  when  he  designed  his  “ Roi  au 
Chantier” — the  arrival  of  an  Eastern  king  in  port,  and  his 
reception  there.  The  boat  has  armorial  shields,  and  rowers 
hold  up  their  oars,  making  useful  perpendicular  lines. 
Foreign  critics  have  spoken  frequently  of  this  design,  and 
most  of  them  praise  its  rich  and  ringing  contrasts  of 
beautiful  frank  colour.  Two  or  three  seem  to  think  that 
a new  tapestry  should  have  the  faded  beauty  of  the  old, 

213 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

and  even  Morris  never  dared  to  give  splendidly  brilliant 
hues,  preferring  an  equalised  tone  that  time  will  bleach 
into  faintness.  I have  never  seen  the  “ Roi  au  Chantier,” 
but  photographs  show  that  the  design ' is  a genuine 
tapestry,  crisp  in  all  details,  quite  strong  enough  in  the 
silhouette  of  each  figure,  and  well  framed  with  a graceful 
border.  It  is  a Brangwyn,  and  therefore  new  in  conception 
and  style ; but  the  Oriental  costumes  seem  to  ally  it  with 
the  mediaeval  spirit. 

While  working  for  M.  Bing,  from  the  year  1895, 
Brangwyn  made  interesting  experiments  in  cartoons  for 
stained  glass,  and  these  brought  him  into  technical  rela- 
tions with  Mr.  Louis  Tiffany,  inventor  of  “ favrile  glass,” 
and  son  of  the  celebrated  New  York  goldsmith  and  jeweller. 
In  May  1899,  M.  Bing  held  an  exhibition  at  the  Grafton 
Gallery,  and  fine  examples  of  Tiffany’s  art  in  stained 
windows  and  in  glass-blowing  formed  part  of  a very  rich 
and  varied  show,  which  included  Meunier  bronzes  and 
pictures,  jewellery  by  Colonna,  works  by  the  Impressionists, 
a great  collection  of  antique  Japanese  prints,  and  some 
Indo-Persian  miniatures  by  the  best  masters  of  the  fifteenth 
and  sixteenth  centuries.  There  were  two  large  windows  by 
Brangwyn  : one  secular — “ Music,”  the  other  religious — the 
“ Baptism  of  Christ.”  Both  offered  useful  suggestions  to 
householders.  A Catholic  himself,  Brangwyn  remembered 
that  a good  many  families  in  Great  Britain,  as  on  the 
Continent,  have  chapels  in  their  homes,  and  his  noble 
design  for  the  “ Baptism  of  Christ  ” belongs  to  such  houses 
as  well  as  to  church  decoration. 

The  points  to  be  remembered  in  this  phase  of  orna- 
mental design  are  as  follows : that  coloured  windows  are 

2 14 


‘Designs  for  House  Furnishing 

not  easel-pictures,  isolated  from  objects  surrounding  them, 
and  asking  us  to  give  our  whole  attention  to  their  beauty. 
Their  office  is  that  of  a single  instrument  in  an  orchestra, 
always  subordinated  to  the  total  effect  produced  by  many 
minds  and  many  varieties  of  skill,  all  acting  together  for 
the  sake  of  a complete  result.  But  skilled  artisans  have 
ever  been  proud  and  vain,  each  has  wished  to  play  the  first 
fiddle,  and  their  conductor — he  was  always  an  architect 
in  the  Middle  Ages — has  been  like  the  chief  of  an  opera 
house,  who  tries  very  hard  to  soothe  into  submission  his 
spoiled  tenors  and  sopranos.  To-day  we  are  educating 
a type  of  man  who  is  something  much  more  than  a 
skilled  artisan ; he  is  an  artist-craftsman,  and  therefore 
glad  not  only  to  accept  the  special  limitations  of  his 
material,  but  to  work  in  accord  with  decorative  schemes. 
“ If  you  feel  yourself  hampered  by  the  material  in  which 
you  are  working,  instead  of  being  helped  by  it,”  said 
Morris,  “you  have  so  far  not  learned  your  business,  any 
more  than  a would-be  poet  has  who  complains  of  the 
hardship  of  writing  in  measure  and  rhyme.”  No  doubt; 
but  all  kinds  of  new  difficulties  and  problems  are  enforced 
to-day  upon  artist-craftsmen.  Here  is  an  example  in 
Brangwyn’s  cartoons  for  stained  glass. 

If  he  had  been  living  in  the  great  period  of  window 
decoration,  the  fourteenth  or  the  fifteenth  century,  his  pot- 
metal — glass  tinted  when  in  a state  of  fusion  by  a mixture 
of  metallic  oxides — would  be  all  in  small  pieces,  and  each 
piece  would  have  been  separated  from,  yet  joined  to,  its 
neighbour  by  a leaded  “cane” — a grooved  slip  of  thin  lead 
— holding  the  two.  No  large  piece  of  glass  would  have 
been  used ; each  fragment  would  have  been  uneven  in 

215 


Frank  Hrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

thickness,  varied  in  transparent  colour,  and  dotted  with 
little  air-bubbles,  little  prisons  through  which  light  would 
escape  in  a waywardness  of  effect.  With  those  leaden 
canes  uniting  fragments  of  bright  colour  a cartoon  was 
thought  out  in  those  days,  and  the  designer  had  always 
to  keep  in  mind  the  horizontal  iron  bars  that  would  hold 
in  place  his  mosaic  of  glass.  Even  if  he  tried  to  make 
a realistic  picture,  instead  of  a decoration  through  which 
daylight  would  pass,  he  could  not  possibly  succeed,  because 
his  methods  and  materials  declined  to  be  naturalistic.  So 
it  came  to  pass  that  even  crude  draughtsmanship  was  not 
objected  to,  the  mosaic  of  colour  being  looked  upon  as 
more  important ; and  this  judgment  was  accepted  in  the 
last  century  by  Pugin,  as  if  good  drawing  and  glorious 
colour  were  impossible  to  unite  in  a window  decoration. 
Then  larger  pieces  of  glass  were  made,  and  cartoonists  had 
to  face  the  difficulty  of  keeping  away  from  pictorial  realism 
while  composing  with  human  figures  and  with  fewer  leaded 
canes.  And  that  was  not  all.  As  soon  as  the  lead  strips 
became  less  numerous,  their  effect  became  less  and  less 
like  a mosaic,  and  craftsmen  and  the  public  became 
conscious  that  occasional  strips  of  lead  were  ugly ; and 
this  gave  a great  impetus  to  a vogue  in  painted  windows, 
where  the  lead  was  concealed  with  the  utmost  care,  and 
in  which  artists  used  plates  of  translucent  glass  and  applied 
the  designs  and  colours  with  enamels,  vitrifiable  pigments, 
metallic  oxides  combined  with  vitreous  compounds  known 
as  fluxes.  In  such  windows  we  are  expected  to  forget 
that  glass  is  the  material,  and  usually  they  are  not  decora- 
tions at  all,  but  third-  and  fourth-rate  pictures  stuck  up 
in  a window  opening. 

216 


/ 


‘Designs  for  House  Furnishing 

We  see,  then,  that  experiments  for  a long  time  have 
run  counter  to  the  old  conception  of  a coloured  window — 
as  a many-tinted  mosaic  made  up  with  small  pieces  of 
glass,  these  being  patterned  into  a translucent  ornament 
by  means  of  many  leaded  canes.  Brangwyn  had  to  accept 
the  existing  conditions,  and  to  find  in  his  cartoons  a 
true  method  of  fenestral  decoration  without  much  help 
from  the  lead  and  the  iron  which  used  to  be  essential 
to  coloured  windows,  their  construction  and  safety.  The 
difficulties  were  very  great,  and  if  some  of  the  results  do 
not  seem  to  be  worthy  of  the  inventive  skill  and  care 
bestowed  on  them,  others  are  quite  charming.  Foremost 
among  the  secular  subjects  I may  put  the  “ Flute  Players  ” 
— a design  of  true  and  gracious  decoration  ; its  lines  are 
all  beautiful  and  carefully  thought  out  in  their  relation 
to  a speculative  treatment  of  material.  A purist  might 
object  to  the  sitting  nude  figure  of  the  girl,  because  her 
whole  body  is  cut  out  of  a single  piece  of  glass,  but  all 
experiments  are  useful  because  they  enable  us  to  reconsider 
the  old  routine  of  craft  methods. 

In  his  own  home  Brangwyn  keeps  away  from  himself ; 
that  is,  he  does  not  use  his  own  designs,  preferring  to 
be  in  touch  with  the  work  of  other  hands,  just  as  authors 
put  their  own  books  aside  and  browse  in  a library.  His 
likings  are  as  versatile  as  his  attainments,  and  with  fine 
things  from  many  countries — English  furniture  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  Spanish  cabinets,  Eastern  rugs,  Oriental 
pottery,  and  so  forth — he  has  made  a home,  not  a museum, 
for  excellent  things  harmonise  when  they  are  well-chosen 
and  grouped  together  with  judgment.  Amid  these  sur- 
roundings he  will  talk  to  you  about  many  subjects,  and 
2 e 217 


Frank  \ Brangwyn  and  his  Work 

you  will  find  that  his  views  on  art  defend  men  having 
no  aim  in  common  with  his  own  ; pointing  out,  for  in- 
stance, the  merits  of  Frith’s  best  pictures,  their  accurate 
history,  their  minute  observation,  and  the  skill  of  hand 
that  never  hesitates  and  rarely  blunders  within  the  methods 
of  a school  discipline.  It  is  the  mark  of  a modest  great- 
ness to  find  good  in  all  unaffected  styles.  This  was  a 
trait  in  Robert  Browning,  in  Sir  Walter  Scott,  in  Alex- 
andre Dumas  pere ; and  it  will  continue  to  help  Brangwyn 
in  his  own  achievements. 

This  book  has  tried  to  pass  in  review  twenty-five  years 
of  professional  industry,  each  chapter  struggling  to  express 
in  words  the  indescribable — qualities  of  form,  beauties  of 
colour,  characteristics  of  design,  subtle  questions  of  tem- 
perament; but  life  at  forty-three  is  a Marathon  race  half- 
run, and  we  wait  for  much  more  from  Frank  Brangwyn. 


2l3 


APPENDIX  I 


PICTURES  AND  SKETCHES 

A SELECTED  LIST 
1885-1914 

1885.  Royal  Academy.  “A  Bit  on  the  Esk,  near  Whitby.”  A small 
oil-painting  done  at  the  age  of  seventeen,  after  a trip  in  a coasting 
vessel. 

188^-86.  British  Artists,  Winter  Exhibition.  “ Putney  Bridge.” 
Catalogue  price,  £10,  10s.  The  painter  all  his  life  has  been 

very  much  attracted  by  the  romance  of  bridges. 

1886.  Royal  Academy.  “Waterlogged.”  A large  oil-picture  of  a 
wrecked  vessel  lying  on  a sandbank  in  rough  weather. 

1886  {about).  “Near  Eltham.”  Collection  of  Dr.  Tom  Robinson, 
London. 

1886.  British  Artists.  “Cold  November,”  and  “O’er  the  Sands  of 
Dee.”  A long  strip  of  a picture  representing  the  gold  sands  of  the 
riverside  at  low  water.  “ A Bit  of  Shore,  Par,  Cornwall.”  A water- 
colour, with  boats  and  trees,  and  a stretch  of  beach. 

1887.  Royal  Academy.  “Sunday.”  Water-colour.  The  stern  of  a 
boat  with  men  leaning  over  the  side,  idly  smoking  their  pipes. 

1887.  British  Artists.  “A  Western  Port.”  Coasters  in  harbour, 
drying  their  sails. 

1887.  British  Artists.  “An  Idle  Hour,”  and  “A  Cornish  Yard.” 

1887  {about).  “Off  to  the  Fishing  Ponds,”  and  “A  Cornish  Port,” 
showing  a row  of  old  men  in  the  sun,  seated  near  houses  ; a glimpse 
of  the  sea. 

1887.  “A  Bankside  with  Gorse.”  Collection  of  Dr.  Tom  Robinson, 
London. 

1887.  “A  Sketch  on  the  Coast.”  Collection  of  Dr,  Tom  Robinson, 
London. 


Frank  Rrangwyn  and  his  JFork 

1888.  Royal  Academy.  “ Bark-Stripping.”  Several  men  on  a hillside 
stripping  trees.  Painted  in  Cornwall. 

1888.  British  Artists.  “October,”  and  “Rye  Ferry.”  A study  of 
twilight,  painted  simply,  rich  and  low  in  tone. 

1889.  Royal  Academy.  “Home.”  A marine  version  of  the  blind 
man  and  his  dog  ; it  represents  a small,  fussy  tug  towing  a great 
vessel  over  a bar  on  a wet  and  gusty  day. 

1889.  Royal  Academy.  “When  we  were  Boys  together.”  A couple 
of  old  farm-labourers  in  the  twilight  seated  outside  a cottage. 
Painted  at  Stratford-on-Avon. 

1889.  Royal  Academy.  “Minutes  are  like  Hours.”  A group  of 

fishermen  in  anxiety  because  a vessel  makes  the  harbour  with 
difficulty. 

1889.  British  Artists.  “ Wraik  Gatherers.”  A storm-beaten  sea,  and  a 
beach  swept  by  waves  ; in  the  foreground  three  men  gather  wraik  in 
the  surf.  Sea,  beach,  and  sky  are  in  tones  of  silvery  grey,  and  from 
this  background  the  figures  stand  out  in  dark  relief. 

1889.  New  English  Art  Club.  “The  Last  Load.”  A harmony  in 
cool  greys  and  greens. 

1889.  Institute  of  Oil-Painters.  “Ashore.”  Cold  early  morning  light, 
with  stress  of  wind  and  a stormy  sea  ; figures  about  the  mast  of  a 
stranded  vessel,  and  a man  being  hauled  to  land  by  a life-saving 
apparatus.  Through  mist  and  spray  the  coast  is  seen  dimly. 

1889.  Grosvenor  Gallery.  “Homeward.”  Harvesters  return  home 
from  work  in  the  evening.  A large  picture,  cool  and  pleasant  in 
tone. 

1889  {about).  “ Spinning  a Yarn.” 

1889  (about).  “The  Rope  Walk.”  Figures  in  the  sunlight  making 
rope. 

To  this  period  belong  several  good  pictures ; their  titles  are 
forgotten.  Information  invited  from  their  present  owners. 

1890.  Royal  Academy.  “Outward  Bound.”  A tug  has  just  cast  off 
from  a vessel. 

1890.  Royal  Academy.  “All  Hands  Shorten  Sail!”  Exhibited  also 
at  the  Paris  Salon. 

1890.  Royal  Academy.  “Stand  By!”  Some  men  in  a small  boat 
going  to  board  a vessel. 

1890.  Royal  Academy.  “A  Stranger.”  A large  water-colour.  It 
220 


Appendix  /.  .*  ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

represents  a group  of  men  on  a pier-head  watching  the  approach 
of  a foreign  vessel. 

1890.  British  Artists.  “Conjecture.1'  A small  painting.  Critics  were 
very  pleased  with  this  bold  and  simple  study  of  a drenched  pier-head, 
where  a group  of  salts  in  sou’-westers  discuss  some  point  or  other 
concerning  a vessel  that  drives  her  way  into  harbour  through  mist 
and  a grey  sea. 

1890.  British  Artists.  “January.”  A large  winter  - scene,  having 
much  merit  as  a design,  particularly  in  the  distance  of  town 
and  shipping,  with  lights  coming  out  in  the  winter  twilight. 
Writers  at  this  period  often  bracketed  Frank  Brangwyn  with 
Mr.  Stanhope  Forbes,  though  he  was  never  a Newlynite  pur 
sang. 

1890.  British  Artists.  “Poppies.”  A little  Cornish  sketch  of  a back- 
yard filled  with  flowers. 

1890.  British  Artists,  Winter  Exhibition.  “Off  Ostend,”  and  “Off  the 
Berlings.”  Two  outdoor  sketches. 

1890.  British  Artists.  “Loading  Grain  on  the  Danube.”  This  was 
the  first  hint  of  a coming  change  in  outlook  and  in  colour. 

1890.  British  Artists,  Winter  Exhibition.  “The  Funeral  at  Sea:  ‘We 
therefore  commit  his  body  to  the  deep.’  ” We  are  on  the  deck  of 
a merchantman ; the  crew  stand  bareheaded,  while  the  captain, 
prayer-book  in  hand,  reads  the  last  words  of  the  Burial  Service. 
They  have  just  taken  off  the  Union  Jack  before  giving  the  corpse  to 
the  sea.  This  picture,  which  now  belongs  to  the  Corporation  of 
Glasgow,  attracted  little  attention  in  the  Suffolk  Street  Galleries ; 
while  in  Paris,  soon  afterwards,  it  was  put  in  a place  of  honour  at 
the  Salon,  a medal  of  the  third  class  was  granted,  and  the  Govern- 
ment wished  to  buy  it.  The  Saturday  Review  was  among  the  few 
London  papers  that  noticed  “ The  Funeral  at  Sea.”  “ It  is  all  painted 
in  dim  colours,  under  a grey  sky,  the  angle  of  dark  rolling  sea  to  the 
right  being  the  only  positive  bit  of  colour.  The  scene  is  treated 
without  dramatic  emphasis ; the  mourners  are  in  their  working 
dress  ; the  labour  of  the  ship  has  evidently  been  put  aside  for  a 
moment.  Yet  the  general  effect  of  the  composition  is  one  of  great 
sincerity  and  truth,  while  the  individual  figures  are  well  grouped  and 
carefully  distinguished.”  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson  said:  “This  picture 
is  less  unpleasant  in  colour  than  much  of  this  talented  painter’s  work 


221 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JF irk 

is  wont  to  be,  and  the  rough,  hardy-looking  seamen  and  their  skipper 
are  drawn  with  much  character,  the  men  being  probably  portraits. 
. . . Taken  altogether,  it  is  an  excellently  designed  picture,  and  the 
ship’s  rigging  and  boats  are  drawn  with  the  knowledge  of  a practical 
seaman.”  Now  in  the  Glasgow  Gallery. 

.1890.  Grosvenor  Gallery.  “The  Weekly  Despatch.”  A very  large 
water-colour,  representing  a group  of  fishermen  in  the  yard  of  a 
seaside  inn,  one  reading  a newspaper  to  the  rest.  The  Daily  News 
said : “ The  grouping  of  the  men  is  so  natural  and  their  expressions 
are  so  varied,  that  any  one  will  recognise  the  fact  that  the  artist  has 
a will  and  a way  of  his  own.  His  gossips  clearly  enjoy  a story, 
whether  it  be  a chapter  in  real  life  from  their  weekly  budget  of  news 
or  a yarn  that  might  be  told  only  to  the  marines.  Perhaps  Mr. 
Brangwyn's  real  danger  is  a tendency  to  monotony  of  colour,  and 
when  he  paints  the  sea  he  sometimes  wants  more  strength  and 
decidedly  more  suggestion  of  form  in  his  breakers.” 

1890.  Grosvenor  Gallery.  “ Sail  Ho  !”  In  the  foreground  is  a water- 
logged vessel,  with  her  wet  deck  aslant ; the  crew,  seeing  a ship  on 
the  horizon,  look  out  across  the  waves,  through  the  pale  light  of  a 
chill  dawn. 

1890.  Tooth’s  Gallery.  “ Yeo,  Heave  Ho!”  A lot  of  men  heaving 
in  a vessel  on  a capstan. 

1891.  Royal  Academy.  “Salvage.”  Badly  skied.  A tug  bringing 
home  a wreck. 

1891.  Royal  Academy.  “Assistance.”  Badly  skied.  A large  picture 
of  much  merit,  representing  a storm  on  board  ship  and  sailors  in  the 
act  of  lowering  a boat  to  save  life  off  a vessel  in  distress. 

1891.  British  Artists.  “ Four  Ale.”  A small  picture  of  some  old  salts 
in  an  English  ale-garden. 

1891.  A collection  of  studies  and  sketches — “From  the  Scheldt  to  the 
Danube  ” — were  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Arcade  Gallery,  Bond  Street, 
London.  The  most  important  were  sketches  of  Oriental  ports,  rich 
in  colour,  and  studies  of  the  open  sea.  Two  subjects  were  repro- 
duced in  colour  by  the  Graphic.  One  represented  some  wild-looking 
fishermen  in  their  rafts  on  the  Danube,  while  the  other — a better 
picture  by  far — was  a scene  on  the  quay  at  Constantinople,  with  a 
Turkish  angler  waiting  peacefully  for  a bite.  As  for  the  other  sketches, 
here  is  a notice  from  the  Sunday  Times , March  29,  1891: — 

222 


e. Appendix  I. : ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

“ Mr.  Brangwyn  has  simply  revelled  in  the  ever  varied  aspect  of 
the  sea  under  different  conditions  of  light  and  weather,  and  latitude. 
He  has  a fine  sense  of  colour,  and  a graphic  grasp  of  a scene, 
whether  it  be  a waste  of  waters  with  a single  ship  tossing  on  the 
waves,  or  a group  of  Orientals  at  Stamboul,  all  brilliant  in  colour. 
He  is  always  essentially  pictorial,  and  he  has  a keen  eye  for  charac- 
ter. These  pictures  have  distinct  charm,  and,  as  a whole,  they 
reveal  the  artist  in  a much  more  versatile  light  than  that  with  which 
he  has  hitherto  shone.  Among  the  many  pictures  in  this  truly 
interesting  show  which  we  have  specially  enjoyed  are  ‘Tenedos 
Island’  and  'The  Sea  of  Marmora,’  with  their  fine  contrasts  of 
deep  blue  sea  and  pale  sky  ; ‘ Michaelmas  Day,’  ‘ Going  into 
Sulina,’  an  impressive  night  effect ; ‘ Evening  on  the  Black  Sea,’ 
‘The  /Egean  Sea,’  ‘On  Deck,'  ‘Unloading  at  Stamboul,’  ‘The 
Steward,’  ‘ Outside  a Store,  Galata,’  ‘ Entrance  to  the  Dardanelles,' 
‘ Danube  Village,’  ‘ Entrance  to  the  Bosphorus,’  and  ‘ Entrance  to 
the  Black  Sea.’  This  is  an  unpretentious  exhibition,  but  it  is  full  of 
pictorial  interest.” 

1892.  British  Artists.  “A  Sketch.”  A sailor’s  funeral  leaving  a vessel, 
watched  by  curious  folk  from  a quay-side.  It  was  noticed  very 
favourably. 

1892.  British  Artists.  “Pilots,  Puerta  de  Passages,  Spain.”  Painted 
during  the  trip  in  Spain  with  Melville.  Now  at  the  Chicago  Art  Insti- 
tute. A medal  was  awarded  to  it  at  the  Chicago  Exhibition,  1894. 

1892.  British  Artists.  “ Puerta  de  Passage.”  A bold,  splashing  water- 
colour. 

1892.  British  Artists.  “ Tarifa,  Spain.” 

1892  {about).  “ Spanish  Houses.”  A brilliant  water-colour.  Collection 
of  Dr.  Tom  Robinson. 

1892.  Royal  Academy.  “The  Convict  Ship.”  With  its  freight  of 
unhappy  men,  just  freed  in  the  Thames  from  the  pilot’s  boat. 
In  the  centre  stands  a young  fellow  in  chains,  his  hands  bound  be- 
hind him  ; along  the  vessel’s  side  there  are  other  unfortunates,  well 
studied  and  painted  with  breadth.  The  charm  of  this  early  work 
is  its  human  nature,  its  grasp  of  character.  The  convicts  are  all 
plainly  landsmen,  and  their  new  surroundings  increase  their  forlorn 
despair.  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson  liked  this  grey  picture,  and  the  jury 
gave  it  a medal  at  the  Chicago  Exhibition,  1894. 


223 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

1892.  Exhibition  in  the  spring  of  South  African  sketches,  painted 
for  Mr.  Larkin. 

“ Outside  a Store,  Diep  River : Saturday  Evening.”  Twilight, 
with  figures  in  the  street  outside  the  store,  and  a lamp  shining 
through  an  open  doorway. 

Two  Views  of  Simonsburgh.  A melancholy  looking  place,  with 
strange  white  houses,  all  walls  and  no  windows  seemingly  ; built,  in 
fact,  by  the  earliest  Dutch  settlers  as  a protection  from  attack. 

“Outside  a Wine  Store,”  with  ruddy  brown  trees;  “A  Police 
Station,”  an  innocent-looking  cottage  standing  in  the  midst  of  pretty 
shrubberies;  “Native  Women  Washing  Clothes,  Brede  River”; 
“ Drankenstein  Mountains,”  capped  with  snow,  a foreground  of 
yellow  flowers  ; “ Ploughing  Vines,”  “ A Street,  Ceres  ” ; “ Loop 
Street,  Cape  Town”  ; “Outside  a Wine  Store”  ; “A  Windmill,  Salt 
River”;  “Courtyard  of  a Dutch  Farm,  Libertas  ” ; “Malay  Fish- 
monger, Cape  Town”;  “ Stoep  of  Hotel,  Paarl  ” ; “A  Peach 
Orchard  ” ; “A  Farm,  Fransche  Hoek  ” ; “ A Native  Hut  ” ; “A  Creek, 
Idas  Vallei”;  “Main  Street,  Paarl”;  “ Buttengracht  Street,  Cape 
Town:  Malay  Quarter  ” ; “A  Native  Brandy  Still,”  “AStoep,”“A 
Farm  near  Villiersdorp.” 

“ Cape  Town  from  Salt  River.”  Showing  the  city  in  the  distance 
on  a strip  of  land  ; deep  blue  sea,  and  sand-dunes  covered  with 
bluish-coloured  grasses. 

“An  Ostrich  Farm,  South  Africa.”  In  a blaze  of  sunlight,  and  a 
black  woman  on  guard. 

“ River  Scene.”  A clear  evening  after  rain,  and  dark  mountains 
seen  in  blue  against  a luminous  sky. 

“ Evening  among  the  Lilies.”  A charming  fantasy,  showing  a 
native  girl  in  a field  of  beautiful  arum  lilies. 

“A  Waterside  Street,  Cape  Town,”  “Cape  Town  from  the  Sea,” 
with  a cloud  above  the  flat  top  of  Table  Mountain  ; “ Kimberley,”  a 
familiar  scene  at  a pit’s  mouth,  with  rough  miners ; “ Main  Street, 
Paarl,”  a long  road  moist  with  rain,  bordered  by  trees,  and  animated 
with  busy  women  and  men  ; “ A Street,  Stellenbosch,”  with  white 
old  houses,  and  water  running  along  one  side;  “The  Valley  of 
Drankenstein  ” ; “A  Doorway,”  an  old  shed  overgrown  with  vines 
and  surrounded  by  trees ; “ An  Idyll,”  representing  a young  native 
mother  with  her  baby  on  her  back  and  followed  by  another  child, 

224 


«, Appendix  I. : ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

strolling  on  the  seashore  in  the  twilight  ; the  moon  sails  in  a clear 
sky,  and  the  infant’s  head  relieved  against  it  seems  to  be  encircled  by 
a nimbus. 

“Berg  River,”  “Wild  Roses,”  “In  the  Dock,”  “Jonkers  Hoek,” 
“ Houts  Bay,”  “Kimberley  Market,”  “Castle  Square,  Cape  Town,” 
“Table  Mountain  from  the  Sea,”  “A  Back  Yard,”  “Front  of  a 
Dutch  House,  Stellenbosch,”  “A  Native  Nurse,”  “Landing  at 
Cape  Town,”  and  “ Outward  Bound  — the  Dunotlar  Castle  leaving 
London.”  This  last  was  a large  painting,  grey  and  sombre,  with  a 
crowd  saying  farewell.  It  was  not  successful. 

1892.  “A  Street  in  Funchal,  Madeira,”  “A  Native  of  Madeira,”  and 
other  sketches  in  that  island. 

1892  (about).  “The  Dance.”  A large  picture  of  negroes  dancing  by  the 
light  of  a lamp,  that  throws  great  shadows  on  a whitewashed  wall. 
From  a sketch  made  in  a drinking  den,  Cape  Town. 

1892.  Institute  of  Oil-Painters.  “Slave  Traders.”  “Fine  in  the 
colour  of  rich  Eastern  costumes  and  of  the  stretch  of  deep  blue  sea 
and  sky,  a strip  of  sand  between  ” (Star).  This  picture — an  original 
deck-scene  in  burning  sunlight — had  many  enemies.  It  was  said  to 
be  as  lifeless  as  a display  of  bric-a-brac,  yet  critics  were  drawn  to- 
wards it,  in  anger  or  in  pleasure.  The  Magazine  of  Art  said  : “ Here 
a group  of  darkest  Africans,  clad  in  flaming  scarlet,  tawny,  and  dark- 
blue  garments,  are  seen  crouching  on  the  white  deck  of  a steamer, 
with  a background  of  deepest  indigo  sea,  and  appropriately  blue  sky. 
The  problem  of  conveying  a true  visual  impression  under  such  self- 
created  difficulties  as  here  indicated  is  boldly  and  powerfully  attacked, 
but  it  is  not  adequately  solved ; some  of  the  figures  are  mere 
silhouettes,  and  atmosphere  is  conspicuously  lacking.” 

1893.  Became  Corresponding  Member  of  the  Secession,  Munich. 

1893.  Glasgow  Institute.  “ Blake  at  Santa  Cruz.”  A small  picture. 

1893.  Society  of  Scottish  Artists.  “Shade.”  The  Glasgow  Herald  said: 

“ It  is  an  artist’s  picture  rather  than  a direct  reading  from  nature. 
Mr.  Brangwyn  shows  us  a courtyard,  and  men  sitting  under  the  cool 
greens  of  a spreading  tree.  The  lights  and  shadows  are  artistically 
managed,  and  the  effect  of  broken  sunshine  is  realised  with  great 
dexterity.  The  visitor,  however,  need  not  analyse  the  canvas  too 
narrowly,  else  he  may  find  patches  of  sunlight  and  slashes  of  red  in 
unexpected  places.  What  of  that  ? The  artist  is  here  concerned 
2 F 225 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

not  with  literal  truth  but  with  resolving  a problem  of  much  difficulty, 
and  the  result  is  such  as  to  justify  his  daring.”  “ Shade  ” was 
exhibited  at  the  R.A.  in  1894. 

1893.  Royal  Academy.  “A  Slave  Market.”  See  Chapter  III.  This 
picture  now  belongs  to  the  Corporation  of  Southport. 

1893.  Royal  Academy.  “Turkish  Fishermen’s  Huts.” 

1893.  Grafton  Gallery,  Spring  Exhibition.  “The  Buccaneers.”  See 
Chapter  III.  Now  in  the  Collection  of  M.  Pacquement,  Paris. 
Illustrated  in  this  book.  Max  Nordau  gave  a thoughtful  explanation 
of  the  method  of  work  employed  by  Brangwyn  in  the  period  of 
“The  Buccaneers.”  He  said:  “Brangwyn  shows  his  figures  either 
flushed  by  the  blazing  heat  of  the  glaring  sun-fire  or  enveloped  in 
the  veil  of  semi-transparent  obscurity.  Both  kinds  of  illumination 
have  the  peculiarity  of  suppressing  all  accessories  and  allowing  the 
essential  only  to  remain.  A human  face,  a human  body,  dipped 
into  glowing  sunlight,  will  become  almost  transparent.  Behind  the 
skin  and  integument,  which  appear  only  like  a veil,  muscles  and 
bones  will  come  forward.  Strong  light  prepares  a body  almost  like 
the  anatomist’s  dissecting  knife.  Obscurity  acts  in  a similar  way. 
It  effaces  the  connections  and  transitions,  and  accentuates  nothing 
but  the  strong  lines  of  construction.  Only  diffused  light  lends  equal 
value  to  all  parts  of  the  surface  ; it  shows  everything,  and  explains 
nothing.  Direct  light,  on  the  other  hand,  like  obscurity,  hierarchises 
the  appearance,  and  enables  us  to  separate  at  the  first  glance  mere 
superficial  ornamentation  from  girders  and  beams.” 

1893.  “Eve.”  A study  of  the  nude  in  a forest  of  tropical  foliage  and 
fruit.  Grafton  Gallery. 

1893.  Institute  of  Oil-Painters.  “Dolce  Far  Niente.”  Half-clad 
Southern  women  in  orange  draperies  lie  around  a blue-tiled  fountain  ; 
a rich  background  of  magnolia  trees.  R.  A.  M.  Stevenson  admired 
this  picture  for  its  delicacy  and  truthfulness,  while  the  Athenaeum 
was  annoj'ed  by  it,  insisting  that  the  odalisques  were  like  the 
dummies  in  the  windows  of  hairdressers.  It  is  the  privilege  of 
experts  to  contradict  each  other.  Collection  of  J.  H.  Freeman, 
Esq.,  K.C. 

1893.  “A  Sketch  in  Spain.”  An  arrangement  of  brown  sands,  blue 
streams  and  sky,  and  brilliant  red  mule-trappings.  “You  must  not 
look  for  delicate  harmony  or  a subtle  study  of  tones,  but  the  flaunt- 
226 


Appendix  L:  ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

ing  colours  catch  the  eye  pleasantly  and  resolve  themselves  into  a 
fine  stirring  piece  of  decoration  on  walls  otherwise  all  too  dull  and 
colourless  ” — Star. 

1893  {about).  “ Spoil.”  A large  picture  of  robbers  in  the  act  of  playing 
at  dice  near  their  captives  ; a town  on  fire  in  the  background. 

1893.  New  Gallery.  “Adoration  of  the  Magi.”  See  Chapter  IV. 
Collection  of  E.  Seegar,  Berlin. 

1894.  Royal  Academy.  “Oranges.”  A large  picture  of  an  orange 
booth  at  Jaffa.  Woodiwiss  Collection. 

In  March,  1894,  Brangwyn  was  at  Tangier  and  Morocco  with 
Mr.  Ganz  and  Mr.  Dudley  Hardy.  He  painted  several  oils  and 
water-colours,  and  his  study  for  “Trade  on  the  Beach.” 

1894.  Institute  of  Oil-Painters.  “Trade  on  the  Beach.”  Exhibited 
afterwards  at  the  Salon,  and  bought  there  by  the  French  Govern- 
ment for  the  Luxembourg,  1895.  It  represents  a scene  on  the  coast 
of  Morocco,  with  great  boats  hauled  up  on  the  golden  sands  ; negroes 
and  Moors  are  engaged  in  barter.  In  colour  it  possesses  a certain 
quiet  splendour ; and  at  the  same  time  it  shows  a fine  sense  of 
atmosphere,  and  an  effect  of  strong  sunshine.  Once  again  the 
Athenaeum,  was  indignant,  while  the  Saturday  Review  described  the 
work  as  wonderful  in  pictorial  force.  Mr.  Haldane  Macfall  said  : 
“ The  decorative  quality  and  arrangement  of  this  work  are  beyond 
criticism.  The  general  buff  and  grey  tone  of  the  picture  is  set  aglow 
with  rich  colours  that  fall  upon  it  in  well-placed  patches  balanced 
with  rare  art.  The  curves  of  the  arches  in  the  white  buildings  at 
the  back,  their  purple  and  lilac  shadows,  the  almost  silhouetted 
effects  of  the  negroes  who  sit  together  bargaining  in  the  left  fore- 
ground, the  horizontal  sweep  of  the  great  picturesque  boats  from  left 
to  right  across  the  middle  of  the  picture,  and  the  dignified  effect  of 
the  standing  negro  to  the  right,  are  very  fine  art.  The  work  is 
perfectly  executed  ; the  detail  all  subordinated  to  the  decorative 
scheme — every  little  form  and  patch  of  colour  as  splendidly  placed 
as  in  the  best  Japanese  art.  And  the  colour  scheme  is  a glorious 
harmony.  Above  all,  the  artist  has  caught  the  spirit  of  the  people 
as  only  genius  can  catch  it.” 

1894.  New  Gallery.  “The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.”  See 
Chapter  IV. 

1895.  New  Gallery.  “ St.  Simeon  Stylites.”  See  Chapter  IV.  Municipal 

227 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

Art  Gallery  at  Venice.  Mr.  H.  F.  W.  Ganz  made  an  etching  of  this 
picture,  and  showed  it  at  the  R.A.  in  1895. 

1895.  Grafton  Gallery.  Small  picture  of  St.  Simeon  Stylites. 

1895.  Royal  Academy.  “Rest.”  See  Chapter  IV. 

1895.  Royal  Academy.  “ In  the  Square.”  Water-colour.  Painted  in 
the  market-place  of  Algeciras. 

1895  {about).  “A  Captive.”  Illustrated  in  The  Studio  Magazine. 

1895.  Illustrations  for  “Don  Quixote,”  published  by  Mr.  Gibbings. 

1895.  “Spanish  Goatherds.”  Life-sized  figures  playing  at  dice;  an 
effect  of  brilliant  colour.  This  picture  was  sent  to  the  Paris  Salon, 
and  many  French  critics  thought  it  too  airless  and  too  arbitrary. 
Others  praised  it  warmly  as  a decoration.  The  picture  was  really 
an  experiment,  a sort  of  jugglery  with  strong  pigments,  and  its  skill 
would  be  appreciated  by  any  one  who  tried  to  copy  it. 

1895.  “A  Port  in  Spain.”  In  the  background  is  a grey  bridge,  above 
which  towers  the  sails  of  a vessel  ; this  side  the  bridge  is  another 
boat,  with  men  at  work.  A wall  stands  between  the  river  and  the 
promenade,  where  groups  of  picturesque  idlers  lounge.  On  our 
right,  in  the  foreground,  seated  at  a rough  table,  are  three  men, 
whose  talk  interests  a tall  onlooker.  It  is  a good  travel  picture, 
showing  sympathy  in  its  keen  observation.  It  takes  us  to  a land  of 
ease,  where  basking  in  the  sun  seems  to  be  hard  work,  and  where 
past  centuries  appear  to  have  a sort  of  ghostly  presence  in  the  acts 
of  to-day. 

1895.  In  the  late  summer  Brangwyn  was  in  Paris,  and  there  painted  for 
M.  Bing  two  large  decorative  panels,  as  well  as  the  frieze  for  the 
street  elevation  of  “ L’Art  Nouveau.”  The  panels  were  called 
“Music”  and  “Dancing.”  Now  in  the  Collection  of  M.  Agache. 

1896.  Royal  Academy.  “The  Blood  of  the  Grape.”  A large  canvas 
representing  a modern  celebration  of  the  festival  of  Bacchus  ; in  it  a 
crowd  of  villagers  in  a vineyard  press  around  a nude  man  riding  a 
grey  donkey.  Seegar  Collection,  Berlin. 

To  this  period — i.e.  from  1895  to  1896 — the  following  works 
belong : — 

“ Virgin  and  Child  resting  at  a Well.”  In  the  Collection  of  Sir 
Alfred  East,  A. R.A.  “ One  of  Brangwyn’s  less-known  works,  akin, 
as  far  as  the  background  is  concerned,  to  ‘ St.  Simeon  Stylites,’  in 
the  Venice  Gallery.” — F.  Rinder. 

228 


^Appendix  I.:  Pictures  and  Sketches 

"The  Saddle  Shop/'  a small  picture  painted  at  Assisi. 

“The  Market.”  In  the  Collection  of  M.  Tchoukine,  Moscow. 

“The  Quarry,”  with  an  old  stonebreaker  resting;  trees  beyond, 
and  a low  range  of  chalky  hills  against  an  evening  sky. 

“ Moorish  Women  seated  on  a Terrace.” 

“ The  Snake  Charmer.”  A large  picture. 

“The  Story-Teller.”  A big  water-colour. 

“Turkish  Fishermen.”  National  Gallery,  Prague. 

“A  Turkish  Pot  Market”;  and  “A  Moorish  Market.” 

Design  for  a tapestry — Le  Roi  an  Chantier- — now  in  the  Leeds 
Gallery. 

“A  Turkish  Sweetmeat  Seller.”  There  are  two  pictures  of  this 
subject,  one  in  a collection  at  Pittsburg,  the  other  belonging  to 
E.  Fox,  Esq. 

“ Music.”  Three  men  and  a boy  seated  under  the  shade  of  a 
tree  and  playing  musical  instruments.  Rich  and  low  in  tone.  In 
the  Collection  of  Sir  Alfred  East,  A.R.A. 

1895-96.  Small  picture  of  a boy  piping.  Exhibited  at  Venice.  Col- 
lection of  C.  Schmutzer,  Bucharest. 

“Venetian  Boatmen  in  their  Craft.”  Shown  at  Pittsburg.  In 
the  Collection  of  Peter  A.  Schemm,  Philadelphia. 

“The  Beach,  Funchal.”  Water-colour. 

“ Bathers.”  Boys  enjoying  themselves  in  a pond  ; trees  on  the 
right.  In  the  Collection  of  Sir  Alfred  East,  A.R.A. 

1897.  “The  Market  at  Bushire.”  Figures  on  the  beach,  some  sitting, 
others  standing.  Silver  medal  at  the  great  Exhibition  of  Paris.  It 
is  probably  the  best  coast  scene,  alert,  humorous,  well  drawn,  admir- 
ably composed,  and  harmonious  in  flashing  colour.  Mr.  Spielmann 
gives  a good  illustration  of  this  work  in  Scribner’s  Magazine , January 
1904.  Fry  Collection. 

1897.  “The  Scoffers.”  Paris  Salon.  The  subject  is  taken  from  an  old 
Spanish  ballad  about  a Castilian  general  who  was  taken  prisoner  by 
the  Moors.  Once  a week  he  was  removed  from  his  prison,  tied  to  a 
stake,  and  insulted  by  the  population  of  the  town.  This  picture  won 
a great  success  in  Paris,  and  at  Munich  it  gained  a gold  medal.  It 
was  bought  by  the  National  Gallery  of  New  South  Wales  at  Sydney. 
Mr.  Rinder  considers  this  work  to  be  one  of  the  most  masterly 
things  that  Brangwyn  has  yet  done. 

1897.  Royal  Academy.  “Venice.”  Skied.  Boatmen  in  the  fore- 

229 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

ground,  the  Dogana  beyond,  seen  against  a cloudy  sky.  Fry 
Collection. 

1897.  “Assisi.”  A noble  landscape  bought  by  the  Bavarian  Govern- 
ment for  the  Pinakothek  at  Munich. 

1897.  Clifford  Gallery.  “Waiting  for  the  Fishermen.” 

1898.  Royal  Academy.  “ The  Golden  Horn.”  Skied. 

The  Spectator  protested  against  this  ill-treatment.  “ This  painter 
is  gifted  with  a highly  original  way  of  seeing  things,  together  with  a 
fine  sense  of  colour  and  a great  knowledge  of  decorative  effect, 
qualities  which  the  average  pictures  hung  on  the  line  seldom  possess. 
There  are  dozens  of  sleek  mediocrities  one  would  willingly  banish  to 
the  sky-line  to  make  room  for  such  a breezy  piece  of  shipping  and 
great  clouds  as  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  picture  seems  to  be.”  The  Fromentin 
Collection,  Paris. 

1898.  Royal  Academy.  “The  Story.”  Skied.  An  Eastern  garden 
with  Arabs  seated  under  the  trees.  “ It  shows  the  spirit  in  which 
Brangwyn  works.  Here  is  no  niggling  detail,  no  attempt  at  shallow 
prettiness.  It  is  big  in  feeling,  big  in  touch.” — Frank  Rinder.  The 
Olivier  Senn  Collection,  Havre. 

1898.  Maclean’s  Gallery.  “A  Passing  Storm  in  Venice.”  A picture  of 
Venice  at  work,  with  sailors  and  fishermen  ; cloudy  weather.  R.  A.  M. 
Stevenson  spoke  of  this  work  as  a gorgeous  decorative  scheme,  most 
agreeable  in  colour  and  handling,  and  passably  like  something  that, 
might  exist. 

1898.  “Custom-House  Quay,  Venice,”  equally  vigorous  and  direct. 

1899.  Maclean’s  Gallery.  “ Limehouse.”  One  of  the  best  among  the 
landscapes,  free  and  natural  in  design,  rich  in  subdued  colour,  and 
spacious. 

1899.  Grafton  Galleries.  “Music,”  and  “The  Baptism  of  Christ”: 
two  stained  windows  in  Tiffany  glass. 

1899.  “Corner  of  a Market  in  Spain.”  Brilliant  and  attractive. 

1900.  New  Gallery.  “Charity.”  MacCulloch  Collection.  Now  in 
the  National  Gallery  of  Canada. 

1900.  New  Gallery.  “Charity.”  MacCulloch  Collection. 

1900.  New  Gallery.  “The  Needle.”  Pastel. 

1900.  Pastel  Society.  “The  Meal.”  A study  in  the  Black  Country. 

1900.  Frieze  for  a Music  Room,  painted  for  E.  Davis,  Esq.  ; also 
Decorative  Panels  of  the  Months  for  a bedroom. 

230 


a Appendix  I.:  Pictures  and  Sketches 

1900.  A painting  of  old  houses  at  Limehouse,  and  a picture  of  half- 
nude  girls  in  a landscape  listening  to  music. 

1900  {about).  “Hammersmith,”  seen  across  the  river  from  the  south 
side,  a clump  of  dark  trees  on  the  left  balanced  by  a cumulus  cloud 
beyond  the  distant  buildings.  Kitson  Collection,  Leeds. 

1901.  “ Old  Kew  Bridge,”  painted  just  before  its  destruction.  S.  Wilson 
Collection,  Leeds. 

1901.  “Approach  to  Old  Kew  Bridge.”  A small  picture. 

1901.  “A  Road  in  Norfolk.”  A fine  effect  of  dark  trees  against  a sky. 
Collection  of  Sir  K.  S.  Anderson. 

1902.  “The  Cider  Press.”  New  Gallery.  Now  in  the  Collection  of 
Sir  Alfred  East,  A.R.A. 

This  picture  brought  to  an  end  the  second  period  in  the  develop- 
ment of  a decorative  style.  The  first  period  extended  from  the  later 
sea-pictures  to  the  “ Spanish  Goatherds,”  passing  through  a series  of 
religious  subjects.  Then,  little  by  little,  the  handling  became  more 
supple  and  the  design  more  mature,  without  any  loss  of  virility. 
Next,  in  1902,  the  painter  began  his  great  work  for  the  Skinners’ 
Company,  and  all  the  most  difficult  problems  of  mural  painting 
entered  his  daily  practice.  His  “ Cider-  Press  ” marked  the  point  of 
transition.  Though  a noble  picture  in  many  ways,  it  was  much 
opposed  in  1902.  Some  critics  wrote  of  it  as  if  they  were  pedagogues 
entrusted  with  the  guardianship  of  a brilliant  but  unruly  pupil.  Here 
is  an  example  from  the  Athenceum : — 

“Mr.  Brangwyn  approaches  the  problem  of  finding  a sumptuous 
decorative  treatment  on  different  lines.  In  his  'Cider  Press’ (58) 
he  endeavours,  with  the  least  possible  disregard  of  verisimilitude,  to 
construct  a lyrical  fantasy  from  the  conditions  of  modern  life.  The 
problem  is  so  difficult  and  the  aim  so  praiseworthy  that  we  must 
welcome  any  approach  towards  achievement.  Mr.  Brangwyn  feels 
rightly  the  necessity  of  changing  the  key  from  that  of  nature,  but  he 
does  so  not  by  ennobling  the  types,  or  by  giving  to  his  figures  a 
larger,  freer  movement — his  boys,  for  instance,  remain  undisguised 
urchins,  with  even  an  insistence  on  what  wants  distinction  in  their 
build  and  bearing — but  by  a peculiar  conventional  way  of  represent- 
ing things,  by  reducing  his  expression  to  rude  blocks  and  clots  of 
sharply  opposed  tones  and  colours.  It  is  undeniable  that  by  this 
convention  he  obtains  the  possibility  of  a vigorous  and  strongly 

231 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  TFork 

planned  decorative  disposition,  but  he  does  so  not  only  at  the  cost  of 
the  finer  qualities  of  beauty — it  is  difficult  to  enjoy,  in  and  for  itself, 
a picture  made  up  of  brushmarks  each  of  about  the  size  and  shape  of 
a potato-peeling — but  also  at  the  cost  of  expressiveness.  In  fact, 
Mr.  Brangwyn’s  method  is  the  result  of  a determined  and  heroic  effort 
to  do  by  inverted  means  what  has  always  been  done  in  the  straight- 
forward manner.  The  argument  must  be  of  this  kind.  We  want  to 
paint  at  once  decoratively  and  in  a modern  manner.  What  is  the 
distinctive  discovery  of  modern  art  ? The  neglect  of  the  object  as  a 
separate  entity  and  the  abandonment  of  the  contour : representation 
by  means  of  recording  patches  of  tone  and  colour  apart  from  their 
significance  as  forming  distinct  objects  to  the  eye.  But  decorative 
design  implies  the  simplification  of  masses  and  the  wilful  assertion 
of  definite  contours.  How  are  these  qualities  to  be  united  ? By 
exaggerating  the  contrasts,  by  sharpening  the  edges  and  neglecting 
the  transitions  of  light  and  shade  wherever  they  occur  within  the 
outline  of  a figure,  and  obliterating  the  contrasts  where  they  coincide 
with  the  edges  of  a figure  or  object.  So  in  1 The  Cider  Press ' the 
contours  that  tell  in  the  pattern  of  the  design  are  the  contrasts  of 
cast  shadow  upon  the  flesh,  where  in  nature  we  should  be  conscious 
of  tender  gradations,  where,  moreover,  the  imagination  demands  that 
the  passage  should  be  gradual  rather  than  abrupt.  That  this  is  a 
novelty  we  may  admit  in  the  sense  that  it  is  carried  out  upon 
principles  the  exact  opposite  of  those  invariably  employed  by  the 
greatest  masters  of  decorative  design  from  Giotto  to  Puvis  de 
Chavannes.  But  is  it  either  a reasonable  or  beautiful  convention  as 
well  as  a novel  one?  In  spite  of  Mr.  Brangwyn’s  ingenuity  and  his 
evident  thoughtfulness  and  deliberation  we  are  not  yet  convinced 
that  it  is.” 

1902.  Poster  for  the  Orient  Pacific  Line. 

1902.  “The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle.” 

1902.  “The  Spanish  Galleons.”  Colonel  Goff's  Collection. 

1902.  “Hammersmith.”  The  Kitson  Collection. 

1902.  “ Melons.”  Municipal  Gallery  at  Venice. 

1902.  “Leeks.”  The  Kitson  Collection,  Leeds.  Illustrated  in  this 
book. 

1902.  “Mushrooms.”  Collection  of  G.  Burnett,  Esq. 

1902.  “Crab  in  a Green  Bowl.” 

1902.  Several  pictures  of  Hammersmith. 

232 


a Appendix  L:  ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

1902.  “Wine  Bottle  and  Turnips.”  Collection  of  E.  Fox,  Esq. 

1902.  “ A French  Farmyard,  Montreuil.”  Chase  Collection,  U.S. A. 

1903.  “London  Bridge,”  low  tone  painting  of  the  river  bank,  showing 
ships  and  the  bridge. 

1903.  “Queen  Elizabeth  going  aboard  the  Golden  Hind  at  Deptford.” 
Presented  by  the  Committee  of  the  General  Shipowners’  Society  to 
Lloyd’s  Register.  Illustrated  in  this  book. 

1903  {about).  “The  Storm.”  In  the  Collection  of  Sir  Kenneth  S. 
Anderson. 

1903.  A series  of  Pastels  for  Charles  Holme,  Esq.,  representing  “The 
Tower  Bridge  ” and  other  Thames  subjects. 

1904.  “Departure  of  Sir  James  Lancaster  to  the  East  Indies.”  Royal 
Academy.  One  of  eleven  panels  for  the  Skinners’  Company.  Their 
subjects  are  given  in  Chapter  X. 

1904.  Royal  Academy.  “ The  Moorish  Well.”  Water-colour.  Luxem- 
bourg, Paris. 

1904.  Diisseldorf  Exhibition.  “The  Turkish  Cemetery.”  Exhibited 
previously  in  the  Rowland  Club,  Clifford’s  Inn,  1903. 

1904.  “The  Orange  Market.”  Collection  of  T.  L.  Devitt,  Esq.  Elected 
A.R.A. 

About  this  time  the  painter  carried  out  a long  decorative  panel 
for  the  proprietor  of  Colliers  IVeekly,  New  York,  showing  “The 
Departure  of  Columbus.”  A collotype  is  given  in  this  book. 

1905.  Four  Panels  painted  for  the  English  Room  at  the  Venice 
Exhibition:  “Navvies  at  Work,”  “ Workers  in  Steel,”  “Blacksmiths,” 
and  “ Potters.”  These  decorations  were  bought  by  Mr.  S.  Wilson, 
of  Leeds,  in  1906,  and  presented  to  the  Art  Gallery  of  Leeds.  A 
fifth  panel  was  added,  entitled  “Weavers.”  It  is  illustrated  in  this 
book.  A gold  medal  was  won  at  Venice. 

1905  (about).  “Factories  at  Hammersmith”;  “ The  Lord  Mayor’s  River 
Procession,”  now  at  the  Guildhall  ; “ The  Tower  Bridge,”  now  at  the 
Guildhall. 

1905.  Work  for  the  Skinners'  Hall. 

1905  (about).  “Unloading  Coal,  Bruges.”  The  Kitson  Collection,  Leeds. 

1905  (about).  Study  of  a Nude  Figure.  Collection  of  R.  Douglas  Wells. 

1906.  Royal  Academy.  “ The  Venetian  Funeral,”  now  in  the  Leeds 
Gallery.  Illustrated  in  this  book. 

1906.  Several  pictures  of  nude  women.  One  in  collection  of  Sir 
Boscomb  John,  R.A. 

2 G 


233 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 

1906.  New  Gallery.  “The  Wine  Shop.”  Gallery  of  Barcelona.  See 
the  criticism  of  Mr.  Claude  Phillips  in  Chapter  X.,  page  163. 

1906.  “ Road  near  Etaples.”  Barcelona  Chamber  of  Deputies. 

1906.  “ The  Santa  Maria  della  Salute.”  Gold  medal  at  the  International 

Exhibition  in  Amsterdam.  Now  in  the  Wellington  Art  Gallery,  New 
Zealand.  Reproduced  in  this  book. 

1906.  Work  for  the  Skinners’  Company. 

1906.  “ Canal,  Bruges.” 

1906.  “The  Rialto,”  spacious  and  noble;  one  of  the  finest  among  the 
architectural  subjects. 

1906.  “ Modern  Commerce.”  Fresco  at  the  Royal  Exchange,  London. 

Illustrated  in  this  book,  and  described  in  Chapter  IX.  Reproduced 
in  this  book. 

1906.  “The  Return  from  Mecca,”  a brilliant  sketch  of  camels  and  many 
figures. 

1906.  Grand  Prix,  Milan,  for  the  etching  of  “ Santa  Maria  della  Salute  ” ; 
elected  corresponding  member  of  the  Society  of  Illustrators,  U.S.A., 
and  member  of  the  Asociacion  de  Artistas  Espanoles. 

1906.  “A  Bridge  near  Venice.”  Ecclesiastical  procession  over  a bridge, 
fishermen  and  beggars  watching. 

1907.  “The  Tinker.”  Goupil  Gallery.  Exhibited  also  at  Ghent.  “A 
tremendously  vehement  sketch  ; certainly  not  a thing  of  beauty,  but 
a picture  that  sets  us  wondering  by  what  magic  the  artist  can  make 
sure  that  these  dabs  and  splashes  of  paint  on  the  canvas  will,  at  a few 
yards’  distance,  give  so  unerringly  the  impression  of  reality  and  life.” 
* — Times.  Now  in  the  National  Collection,  Buenos  Aires. 

1907.  Goupil  Gallery.  “Ramparts  of  Montreuil.” 

1907.  “ The  Turkish  Well  ” ; “ Boatbuilder's  Yard,  Venice,”  a painting 

in  body-colour  on  blue  paper  ; “ On  the  Walls.” 

1907.  “The  Brass  Shop,”  with  a down-at-heel  in  a green  coat.  Illustrated 
in  this  book.  Gold  Medal,  Berlin.  Collection  of  Sir  James  Roberts. 

1907.  Four  Panels  for  the  English  Room  at  the  Venice  Exhibition. 

1907.  “Blake’s  Return  after  Capturing  the  Plate  Ships.”  A decorative 
panel  presented  to  Lloyd’s  Register  by  Sir  John  Davison  Milburn, 
Bart.  Reproduced  in  this  book. 

1908.  Royal  Academy.  “The  Return  of  the  Spies  from  the  Promised 
Land.”  Now  in  the  Art  Gallery  at  Johannesburg.  Illustrated  in  this 
book. 

234 


o Appendix  I. : Pictures  and  Sketches 

1908.  “The  Rajah’s  Birthday.”  New  Gallery.  The  Kitson  Collection, 
Leeds.  Illustrated  in  this  book.  Fine  colour  reproduction  by  Berlin 
Photo  Co. 

1908.  An  exhibition  of  Brangwyn  pictures  at  the  Fine  Art  Society. 
“Evening,”  “A  Market,”  “Near  Estaples,”  “An  Inn,”  “Road  in 
France,”  “On  the  Ramparts,  Montreuil,”  “The  End  of  the  Day,” 
“Ghent,”  “The  Market,  Bruges,”  “A  Gleam  of  Gold,”  “Twilight,” 
“Montreuil,”  Panel — “A  Part  of  the  Decoration  for  the  British 
Room  at  the  International  Exhibition,  Venice,  1907,”  “The  Sun,” 
“Sketch  for  an  Etching,”  “Evening,”  “ The  Festa,  Venice,”  “The 
Pergola,”  “A  Canal,  Bruges,”  “Corn,”  “Storm,”  “A  Fisherman,” 
“The  Bottle-Washer,”  and  “Sketch  for  Panel  at  the  Skinners’  Hall.” 

1908.  “Harvesters.”  Illustrated  in  this  book. 

1908.  “Mars  and  Venus.”  Dublin.  Illustrated  in  this  book. 

1908.  “Susanna  and  the  Elders.”  Carpenter  Collection,  U.S.A. 

1909.  Frieze  at  the  Grand  Trunk  Railway  Offices,  Cockspur  Street, 
London  ; carried  out  for  Sir  Aston  Webb,  R.A. 

1909.  “Wine.”  Exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  in  1910.  Collection 
of  Captain  John  Audley  Harvey. 

1909.  “An  Oriental  Drug-Shop.” 

1909.  “The  Doge  going  to  the  Ledo.”  Collection  of  T.  L.  Devitt,  Esq. 

1909.  “An  Oriental  Market.”  Collection  of  A.  Clarence,  Esq. 

1909.  “The  Fruits  of  Industry.”  A large  decoration  in  tempera.  It 
is  illustrated  in  this  book.  “ In  this  noble  piece,  under  the  blue 
heaven  which  not  even  men’s  factories  can  wholly  obscure,  across 
the  river  where  the  bathers  lose  the  grime  of  their  toil  and  refresh 
their  strength,  sit  the  human  family,  the  men  bearing  the  fruits  of 
their  labour,  the  mother  serene  possessor  of  the  beauty  and  honour 
of  her  womanhood,  and  the  infant  sublimely  unconscious  of  a great 
inheritance.  . . . These  are  they  who  ever  give  to  human  life  its  stir 
and  colour,  the  winners  of  the  fruits  of  industry.  It  is  the  simple  and 
yet  grand  drama  that  lies  behind  history  at  every  turn.  It  is  the 
drama  that  the  poet  and  the  painter  see  for  us,  that  we  may  see  it.” 
— Warwick  H.  Draper.  Reproduced  in  this  book. 

1909.  The  last  panel  for  the  Skinners’  Company  was  finished. 

1910.  “The  Card  Players.”  Reproduced  in  this  book.  Now  in  the 
National  Gallery,  Australia. 

1910.  “The  Fish  Woman.” 


235 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

1910.  ‘‘New  Wine.”  Figures  playing  music  while  others  tread  out  the 
grapes. 

1910.  “A  Grey  Day.” 

1910.  Messina  sketches  in  water-colour.  About  fifty  in  all.  See  the 
Messina  subjects  in  this  book. 

1910.  “ The  Bridge,  Alcantara.”  Reproduced  in  this  book.  Water-colour. 

1911.  “The  Swineherd.”  Picture  of  three  men  with  pigs,  one  man 
holding  young  pig.  Wintebottomi  Collection. 

1911.  “The  Building  of  the  Ship.”  Decorative  panel.  De  Cross 
Collection. 

1 91 1.  “The  Prison,  Tangiers.” 

1912.  “The  Exodus.”  Large  painting  of  men  and  women  leaving  the 
burning  city  of  Messina. 

1912.  “ The  Gate  of  Naples.” 

1912.  “The  Cafe,  Cahors.” 

1912.  “Old  Houses,  Furnes.” 

1912.  “Old  Houses,  St.  Cirq.” 

1912.  “The  Cathedral,  Cahors.” 

1912.  “Apse  of  the  Cathedral,  Cahors.” 

1912.  Study  for  “The  Traghetto.” 

1912.  “Browning's  House,  Venice.” 

1912.  “ A Spanish  Farm.” 

1912.  “ The  Monument.” 

1912.  “ Study  for  the  Nativity.” 

1912.  “The  Valley  of  the  Lot.” 

1912.  “The  Mockers.”  Men  mocking  Christ.  Capt.  Harvey  Collec- 
tion. 

1912.  “Santa. Maria  and  the  Anchors.”  Somewhat  like  the  etching. 
1912.  “ The  Rialto.” 

1912.  “Three  Glass  Windows  for  Buckelbury  Church.” 

Five  panels  painted  for  decoration  of  Christ’s  Hospital.  Un- 
completed. 

Great  Decoration  for  St.  Aidan’s,  Leeds.  Uncompleted. 

1912.  Twelve  water-colours,  “Toledo,”  &c. 

Many  drawings  or  studies. 

1912.  “Eothen.”  Published  by  Messrs.  Sampson  Low  & Co. 
1912-1913.  “Great  Decoration  from  the  Courts  of  Justice,  Cleve- 
land, U.S.A.”  Article  in  “ Studio.” 

236 


e. Appendix  L:  ‘Pictures  and  Sketches 

1912-1913.  “ Decoration  for  Dining-Room  at  Lloyd’s  Register.”  Shown 

at  Great  Exhibition  at  Ghent.  Article  in  “ Studio.” 

1913.  “ Bridge,  Venice.”  Heaton  Collection. 

1913.  “Venice.”  Reproduced  in  colour,  Berlin  Photo  Co.  Heaton 
Collection. 

1913.  “ Panel  in  Carpenters’  Hall,  City.” 

1913.  “Bridge  at  Avignon.”  Exhibition  Royal  Society  of  British 
Artists.  Sold  to  National  Gallery,  Australia. 

1913.  “The  Three  Trees,  Avignon.” 

1913.  “A  Palace,  Venice.” 

1913.  “The  Wall,  Avignon.”  Landscape. 

1913.  Twenty-five  water-colours  of  South  of  France,  &c. 

1914.  Eight  great  Panels,  24  feet  high,  of  the  four  elements — Earth,  Air, 
Fire,  and  Water,  for  the  Panama  Exhibition,  San  Francisco,  U.S.A. 

“ Poste  City  Line.” 

“ Poste  Citto  Underground  Railway.” 

Etchings. 


237 


APPENDIX  II 


ETCHINGS— CLASSIFIED 

The  numbers  refer  to  the  Catalogue  compiled  by  Mr.  Frank  Newbolt , and  published  in 
1908  by  The  Fine  Art  Society , 148  New  Bond  Street , Lo7idon.  The  unnumbered 
etchings  have  been  put  into  circulation  since  June  1908.  It  will  be  noted  that  some 
plates  belong  to  several  categories. 

FRENCH  SUBJECTS 

“A  Road  in  Picardy.’'  No.  8. 

“The  Mill  Wheel,  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  35. 

“The  Mill  Bridge,  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  36. 

“The  Mills,  Montreuil.”  No.  37. 

“The  Road,  Montreuil.”  No.  38. 

“Canal  at  Hesdin,  Pas-de-Calais.”  No.  43. 

“Sawyers  in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  45. 

“ Men  repairing  a Boiler : in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  46. 

“Sketch  of  a Man,  Montreuil.”  No.  58. 

“Entrance  to  Montreuil.”  No.  72. 

“A  Cornfield,  Montreuil.”  No.  73. 

“Two  Men  in  a Bakehouse  at  Montreuil.”  No.  87. 

“Church  of  Sainte-Austreberthe,  Montreuil.”  No.  89. 

“A  Paper-Mill,  Montreuil,  1907.”  No.  90. 

“Church  of  Sainte-Saulve,  Montreuil.”  No.  93. 

“The  Gate  of  a Farm,  Montreuil,  1907.”  No.  95. 

“The  Market  Square  at  Montreuil.”  No.  96. 

“An  Estaminet,  Montreuil.”  No.  98. 

“A  Fulling-Mill,  Montreuil.”  No.  99. 

“ Bootmakers,  Montreuil.”  No.  100. 

“The  River  : Boys  bathing  at  LongprG”  No.  107. 

“Cathedral  Church  of  Eu,  Normandy.” 

“Hesdin,  Pas-de-Calais.”  No.  121. 

238 


e Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 


“ Bridge  over  the  Tarn.” 

“A  Street  in  St.  Cirq  ” (i). 

“A  Street  in  St.  Cirq”  (2). 

“Notre  Dame,  Poictiers.” 

“The  Tannery,  Parthenay.” 

“ Porte  St.  Jacques,  Parthenay.” 

“Notre  Dame  la  Riche,  Tours.” 

“ Street  in  Tours.” 

“ Abbey  St.  Leonard.” 

“ Church  of  St.  Nicholas,  Paris.” 
“Wash-houses,  Parthenay.” 

“ A Street  in  Puy.” 

“The  Walls  of  Avignon.” 

“The  Cloisters,  Cahors.” 

“On  the  Lot  at  St.  Cirq.” 

“ A Door,  Cahors.” 

“ The  River  Lot.” 

“ Tour  de  Faure.” 

“ On  the  Road  to  Figeac.” 

“Church  of  Notre  Dame,  Eu.” 

“An  Old  House,  St.  Cirq.” 

“The  Farmer  of  Portevoque.” 

“The  Caravan,  Albi.” 

“ Old  Women,  Longpre.” 

“ A Cafe,  Cahors.” 

“The  Mills,  Meaux.” 

“The  Valentre  Bridge,  Cahors.” 

“ The  Lot  at  Vers.” 

BELGIAN  SUBJECTS 

“Entrance  to  a Canal,  Bruges.”  No.  56. 
“Old  Women  at  Bruges.”  No.  61. 
“Windmills  at  Bruges.”  No.  62. 

“A  Brewery  at  Bruges.”  Nos.  63  and  64. 
“Ghent  Gate,  Bruges.”  No.  65. 
“Bottle-Washers  at  Bruges,  1906”  No.  66. 
“Barges,  Bruges.”  No.  67. 


239 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

“ Old  Houses  at  Ghent ; formerly  the  Official  Residence  of  the  Corn 
Measurers.”  No.  68. 

“The  Tow-Rope — Bruges,  1906.”  No.  79. 

“Ghent,  1906.”  No.  104. 

“Porte  St.  Croix,  Bruges.”  No.  112. 

“Meat  Market  at  Bruges.”  No.  117. 

“ A Cafe.”  No.  120. 

“ Mill  at  Dixmude.” 

“ Windmill  at  Dixmude.” 

“The  Apse  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Furnes.” 

“Church  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Furnes.” 

“Timber  Pile,  Furnes.” 

“ Mill  at  Furnes.” 

“Inn  of  the  Parrot,  Dixmude.” 

“Church  of  Saint-Walbert,  Furnes.” 

“ Church  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Dixmude.” 

“ Canal  at  Nieuport.” 

“ A Fair,  Bruges.” 

“ The  Roundabout,  Bruges.” 

“ Canal,  Dixmude.” 

“Water-Carriers,  Furnes.” 

“Unloading  Bricks,  Ghent.” 

“Apse  of  St.  Walburgh,  Furnes.” 

“The  Market,  Furnes.” 

“The  Gateway,  Furnes.” 

“A  Cafe,  Furnes.” 

“ Barges,  Nieuport.” 

“A  Bridge,  Bruges.” 

“ Porte  de  Gand.” 

“ Old  Houses,  Dixmude.” 

ITALIAN  SUBJECTS 
“A  Beggar,  Assisi.”  No.  5. 

“ Assisi.”  No.  7. 

“The  Rialto,  Venice.”  No.  60. 

“ Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice.”  Gold  Medal,  Venice  International 
Exhibition,  1907  ; Grand  Prix,  International  Exhibition,  Milan, 
1906.  No.  88. 

240 


a Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

“Boat-Builders,  Venice.”  No.  91. 

“Boatyard,  Venice”  (1).  No.  92. 

“Boatyard,  Venice”  (2). 

“Unloading  Wine  from  a Merchantman  at  Night,  Venice.”  No.  109. 

“ St.  Peter’s  of  the  Exchange,  Genoa.” 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice.”  No.  no.  See  also  No.  88. 

“A  Gate,  Assisi.”  No.  122. 

“Sunshine  and  Shadow:  A Venetian  Funeral.”  No.  123. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  from  the  Street.”  No.  124. 

“The  Bridge  of  Sighs.”  Grand  Medal  of  Honour  from  the  Emperor 
of  Austria,  1910. 

“The  Traghetto.” 

“ Browning’s  House,  Venice.” 

“ Gate  of  Naples.” 

“A  Canal,  Venice.” 

“ Venetian  Boats.” 

“A  Back  Street  in  Naples.” 

TURKISH  SUBJECTS 

“A  Turkish  Cemetery.”  No.  30. 

“Santa  Sophia,  Constantinople.”  No.  105. 

“Two  Turks  walking  in  a Landscape.”  No.  128. 

“The  Mosque,  Constantinople.” 


BEGGARS 

“ Head  of  an  Old  Blind  Man  with  a Patch  over  one  Eye.”  No.  4. 

“A  Beggar,  Assisi,  under  a Dark  Archway;  other  Figures  silhouetted 
against  a Light  Wall.”  No.  5. 

“Two  Men  Begging.”  No.  113. 

“Four  Men  with  Crutches  asking  for  Alms.”  No.  115. 

“Three  Men  Begging — a Sketch.”  No.  127. 

“The  Feast  of  Lazarus.”  No.  133.  In  the  foreground  a group  of 
mendicants  ; a feast  in  the  background. 

“ Small  Beggars.” 

“ The  Beggars.” 

“The  Beggar  Musician.” 

2 H 


241 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  IFork 


HEADS,  SINGLE  FIGURES,  AND  SMALL  GROUPS 

“ Head  of  a Jew.”  No.  2. 

“An  Old  Man  seated  in  a Chair.”  No.  3. 

“ Head  of  an  Old  Blind  Man  with  a Patch  over  one  Eye.”  No.  4. 

“ Head  of  a Fisherman.”  An  old  man  with  a white  beard  and  a fur 
cap.  No.  19. 

“ Head  of  an  Old  Man.”  No.  20. 

“An  Organ-Grinder,  London.”  No.  55. 

“Sketch  of  a Man  putting  on  his  Coat.”  No.  58. 

“ Man  carrying  a Load  of  Books.”  Buildings  and  figures  in  the  back- 
ground. No.  71. 

“ Sketch  of  an  Old  Man’s  Head.”  No.  81. 

“The  Farmer  of  Portevoque.” 

“Old  Women,  Longpre.” 

“Man  resting  on  a Scythe  on  the  Brow  of  a Hill.”  No.  83. 

“Sketch  of  a Man  with  his  Hands  in  his  Pockets.”  No.  114. 

“ Sketch  of  a Boy  with  a Pot.”  No.  1 16. 

“Two  Turks  walking  in  a Landscape.”  No.  128. 

“The  Preacher.”  No.  126. 

“Two  Blacksmiths  working  at  an  Anvil.”  No.  125. 

“ Lawyers  in  Court.”  No.  103. 

“Bootmakers,  Montreuil.”  No.  100. 

Two  soldiers  in  the  doorway  of  a beershop  ; “ Estaminet,  Montreuil." 
No.  98. 

“Two  Men  rowing  on  a Thames  Lighter.”  No.  85. 

“ Man  rowing  on  a Thames  Lighter.”  No.  86. 

“Two  Men  in  a Bakehouse  at  Montreuil.”  No.  87. 

“Men  scraping  Skins  at  Brentford.”  No.  75. 

“A  Man  scraping  Skins  at  Brentford.”  No.  76. 

“ Bottle-Washers  at  Bruges.”  No.  66. 

“ The  Tan-Pit.”  No.  52. 

“Two  Boatmen  hauling  on  a Rope.”  No.  53. 

“A  Dye  Vat,  Leeds.”  No.  57. 

“Old  Women,  Bruges.”  No.  61. 

“Men  repairing  a Boiler  in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  46. 

“Sawyers  in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  45. 

242 


a Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

“ Three  Brickmakers  loading  Barrows  at  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  44. 
“The  Butcher’s  Shop,  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  41. 

“Boys  playing  Music — a Christmas  Card.”  No.  40. 

“The  Tanyard,  Brentford.”  No.  11. 

“ The  Monks.” 

“ Man  with  Bagpipe.” 

“ Oriental  Boy.” 

“The  Two  Musicians.” 


SPANISH  SUBJECTS 

“ Gate  of  St.  Vincent,  Avila.” 

“The  Bridge,  Toledo.” 


INDUSTRIAL  SUBJECTS 

“ London  Bridge.”  No.  6. 

“London  Bridge.”  No.  9. 

“Bark-Strippers.”  No.  10. 

“The  Tanyard,  Brentford.”  No.  11. 

“Trees  and  Factory,  Hammersmith.”  No.  12. 

“ Hammersmith  Reach.”  No.  13. 

“The  Tree,  Hammersmith.”  No.  17. 

“ Barge-Builders,  Brentford.”  No.  18. 

“On  London  Bridge.”  No.  21. 

“ Performing  Bears.” 

“ Shipbuilding  Yard,  London.”  No.  22. 

“The  Tree,  Hammersmith.”  No.  26.  See  also  No.  17. 

“London  Bridge”  (3).  No.  28. 

“Brentford  Bridge,  with  Barges  and  Figures.”  No.  29. 

“ Building  the  New  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum,  South  Kensington.” 
No.  42. 

“Three  Brickmakers  loading  Barrows  at  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  44. 
“Sawyers  in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  45. 

“Men  repairing  a Boiler  in  a Shipyard  at  Boulogne.”  No.  46. 
“Shipbuilders,  Greenwich,  1905.”  No.  47. 

“Breaking  up  the  Hannibal,  Woolwich,  1905.”  No.  48. 
“Hammersmith”  (3).  No.  49. 

“Scaffolding,  South  Kensington.”  No.  50. 


243 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  TFork 

“Fishmongers’  Hall.”  No.  51. 

“ The  Tan-Pit.”  No.  52. 

“Two  Boatmen  hauling  on  a Rope.”  No.  53. 

“A  Dye  Vat,  Leeds.”  No.  57. 

“A  Brewery  at  Bruges.”  No.  63. 

“A  Brewery  at  Bruges”  (2).  No.  64. 

“The  Tannery,  Parthenay.” 

“Unloading  Bricks,  Ghent.” 

“Bottle-Washers,  Bruges,  1906.”  No.  66. 

“Men  scraping  Skins  at  Brentford."  No.  75. 

“ Man  scraping  Skins  at  Brentford.”  No.  76. 

“ Barge-Builders,  Hammersmith.”  No.  77. 

“ Breaking  up  the  Caledonia  at  Charlton.”  No.  78. 

“ The  Tow-Rope,  Bruges,  1906.”  No.  79. 

“The  End  of  the  Day.”  No.  80. 

“ Men  leaving  Work  in  a Shipyard.”  No.  82. 

“ Blacksmiths.  Three  Men  working  at  an  Anvil.”  No.  84. 
“ Men  rowing  on  a Thames  Lighter.”  Nos.  85  and  86. 
“Two  Men  in  a Bakehouse  at  Montreuil.”  No.  87. 

“A  Paper-Mill,  Montreuil.”  No.  90. 

“ Boat-Builders,  Venice.”  Nos.  91  and  92. 

“The  Farmyard.”  Nos.  94  and  97. 

“A  Fulling-Mill,  Montreuil.”  No.  99. 

“ Bootmakers,  Montreuil.”  No.  100. 

“The  Hay  Cart.”  No.  101. 

“A  Coal-Mine  after  an  Explosion.”  No.  106. 

“ Unloading  Wine,  Venice.”  No.  109. 

“The  Bridge  Builders.” 

“The  Gate  of  the  Farm.” 

“The  Mill  Wheel.” 

“The  Monument.” 

“The  Bakers.” 

“ The  Tree,  Brentford.” 

« The  Cafe.” 

“The  Water-Carriers,  Furnes.” 

“The  Inn  of  the  Parrot,  Dixmude. 

“ Man  with  Bagpipe.” 

“ The  Road-Sweepers.” 

244 


a Appendix  II.:  Etchings — Classified 

u The  Building  of  the  Ship.” 

“The  Demolition  of  the  Post  Office.” 

“The  Swineherd.” 

“Miners  pushing  Trucks  of  Coal.”  No.  in. 

“The  Meat-Market  at  Bruges.”  No.  117. 

“A  Sand-Shoot  on  the  Thames.”  No.  119. 

“Two  Blacksmiths  working  at  an  Anvil.”  No.  125. 

“Evening,  Hammersmith.”  No.  129. 

“Old  Hammersmith.”  No.  132. 

“The  Butcher’s  Shop.” 

“ The  Breaking  up  of  the  Duncan .” 

“Wash-Houses,  Parthenay.” 

“The  Caravan,  Albi.” 


MESSINA  AND  PALERMO 

“The  Campo  San  Spirito,  Messina.”  A noble  ruin  in  sunlight,  storm- 
clouds  behind  ; building  a settlement. 

“Old  Houses,  Messina.” 

“ Shrine  of  the  Immaculate  Virgin,  Messina,  with  People  praying  around 
its  Base.”  This  monument  was  left  untouched  by  the  earthquake. 
“Corner  of  the  Via  del  Trombe,  Messina.” 

“Apse  of  the  Cathedral  at  Messina.” 

“The  Garden  Wall,  Messina.” 

“ Castello  della  Ziza,  Palermo.”  No.  27. 

“The  Broken  Christ,  Messina.” 

“A  Church,  Taormina.” 

“Old  Houses,  Taormina.” 

“The  Piazzo  San  Spirito,  Messina.” 

“The  Apse  of  the  Duomo,  Messina.” 

“Street  near  Messina.” 

“The  Balcony,  Messina.” 

“ Street  near  Taormina.” 

“The  Church  of  II  Spirito  Santo,  Messina.” 

“ Church  of  Sta.  Chiara  del  Carmina  at  Taormina.” 


245 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  VFork 


BRITISH  SUBJECTS 

“Old  Wooden  Houses  at  Walberswick,  near  Southwold.”  No.  i. 
“London  Bridge.”  Nos.  2,  6,  9,  21,  28. 

“Bark-Strippers.”  No.  10. 

Subjects  at  Brentford.  Nos.  n,  14,  15,  18,  29,  75,  76. 

Views  at  Hammersmith.  Nos.  12,  13,  16,  17,  49,  77,  129,  132. 

“ Strand  on  the  Green,  Kew  Bridge  in  the  Distance.”  Nos.  23  and  39. 
“A  Storm,  near  Craven  Cottage,  Fulham.”  No.  24. 

“Trees  with  Snow.”  No.  25. 

“Brentford  Bridge.”  No.  29. 

“Fairlight.”  No.  31. 

“Barnard  Castle.”  No.  32. 

“The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle.”  Nos.  33  and  74. 

“The  Maple-Tree,  Barnard  Castle.”  No.  34. 

“A  Butcher’s  Shop,  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  41. 

“ Building  the  New  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum,  South  Kensington.” 
No.  42. 

“ Tree,  Barnard  Castle.” 

“The  Monument”  (1). 

“The  Monument”  (2). 

“The  Demolition  of  the  Post  Office.” 

“Three  Brickmakers  loading  Barrows  at  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  44. 
“Ship-Builders,  Greenwich,  1905.”  No.  47. 

“Breaking  up  the  Hannibal , Woolwich,  1905.”  No.  48. 

“Scaffolding,  South  Kensington.”  No.  50. 

“Fishmongers’  Hall.”  No.  51. 

“The  Tan-Pit.”  No.  52. 

“A  Pigsty,  Wormwood  Scrubbs.”  No.  54. 

“An  Organ-Grinder,  London.”  No.  55. 

“A  Dye  Vat,  Leeds.”  No.  57. 

“Old  Kew  Bridge.”  No.  59. 

“Men  scraping  Skins  at  Brentford.”  Nos.  75  and  76. 

“Barge-Builders,  Hammersmith.”  No.  77. 

“Breaking  up  the  Caledonia  at  Charlton.”  No.  78. 

“The  End  of  the  Day.”  No.  80. 

“Men  leaving  Work  in  a Shipyard.”  No.  82. 

246 


c. Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

“ Men  rowing  on  a Thames  Lighter.”  Nos.  85  and  86. 

“A  Coal-mine  after  an  Explosion.”  No.  106. 

“ Miners  pushing  Trucks  of  Coal.”  No.  in. 

“A  Sand-Shoot  on  the  Thames.”  No.  119. 

“Evening,  Hammersmith.”  No.  129. 

“The  Black  Mill  at  Winchelsea.”  No.  131. 

“Old  Hammersmith.”  No.  132. 

“The  Mill,  Manningtree.”  This  etching  was  done  before  1902.  Two 
or  three  proofs  exist ; one  belongs  to  Mr.  H.  F.  W.  Ganz. 

“ Cannon  Street  Railway  Bridge.” 

“ The  Swing.” 


CERTIFICATES  AND  BOOKPLATES 

Bookplate  for  Bernard. 

Bookplate  for  Mr.  F.  Newbolt.  No.  130. 

Certificate  for  the  Master  Shipwrights’  Company.  No.  108. 

Bookplate.  No.  102. 

Certificate  for  the  Shipping  Federation  of  the  Port  of  London.  No.  69. 
Bookplate  for  H.  W.  Singer.  No.  70. 

Certificate  for  Fine  Art  Trade  Guild,  London,  1914. 

Bookplate  for  Bernard  Bergl. 


ARCHITECTURAL  SUBJECTS 

“Church  of  Sainte-Austreberthe  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  89. 
“Church  of  Sainte-Saulve  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  93. 

“The  Market  Square  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  96. 

“Cannon  Street  Station  (Interior).” 

“Cannon  Street  Station  (Exterior).” 

“The  Monument”  (1). 

“The  Monument”  (2). 

“The  Demolition  of  the  Post  Office.” 

“The  Cathedral  Church  of  Eu,  Normandy.” 

“A  Brewery  at  Bruges.”  Nos.  63  and  64. 

•“Old  Houses  at  Ghent.”  No.  68. 

■“Assisi.”  With  the  Monastery  and  Church  of  St.  Francis.  No.  7. 
“Castello  della  Ziza,  Palermo."  No.  27. 


247 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

“The  Rialto,  Venice.”  No.  60. 

“The  Bridge  of  Sighs,  Venice.” 

“Ghent  Gate,  Bruges.”  No.  65. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute.”  Nos.  88,  no,  124. 
“Ghent,  1906.”  No.  104. 

“Santa  Sophia,  Constantinople.”  No.  105. 
“Meat-Market  at  Bruges.”  No.  117. 

“Old  Hammersmith.”  No.  132. 

“Apse  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Furnes.” 

“Church  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Furnes.” 

“ Inn  of  the  Parrot,  Dixmude.” 

“Church  of  Saint-Walbert,  Furnes.” 

“Church  of  Saint-Nicolas  at  Dixmude.” 

“Apse  of  the  Cathedral  at  Messina.” 

“The  Campo  San  Spirito,  Messina.” 

“The  Village  Shop.” 

“ The  Prow  of  the  Duncan .” 

“The  Broken  Christ,  Messina.” 

“A  Church,  Taormina.” 

“Old  Houses,  Taormina.” 

“ Apse  of  the  Duomo,  Messina.” 

“ The  Piazza  San  Spirito,  Messina.” 

“The  Balcony,  Messina.” 

“The  Church  of  II  Spirito  Santo,  Messina.” 

“Church  of  Sta.  Chiara  del  Carmina  at  Taormina.” 
“Gate  of  St.  Vincent,  Avila.” 

“A  Back  Street  in  Naples." 

“ Gate  of  Naples.” 

“St.  Peter’s  of  the  Exchange,  Genoa.” 

“ Old  Houses,  Dixmude.” 

“ Porte  de  Gand.” 

“A  Cafe,  Furnes.” 

“The  Gateway,  Furnes.” 

“The  Market,  Furnes.” 

“Notre  Dame,  Poictiers.” 

“Porte  St.  Jacques,  Parthenay.” 

“Notre  Dame  la  Riche,  Tours." 

“Abbey  St.  Leonard.” 


^Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

“Church  of  St.  Nicholas,  Paris.” 

“The  Walls  of  Avignon.” 

“The  Cloisters,  Cahors.” 

“A  Door,  Cahors.” 

“Church  of  Notre  Dame,  Eu.” 

“An  Old  House,  St.  Cirq.” 

“A  Caf£,  Cahors.” 

“Apse  of  St.  Walburgh,  Furnes.” 

BOATS,  BARGES,  SHIPS 

“ London  Bridge  ” (i).  No.  6. 

“London  Bridge”  (2).  No.  9. 

“The  Tree,  Hammersmith.”  No.  17. 

“Barge-Builders  at  Brentford.”  No.  18. 

“A  Shipbuilding  Yard,  London.”  No.  22. 

“London  Bridge”  (3).  No.  28. 

“Shipbuilders,  Venice,  1905.”  No.  47. 

“Breaking  up  the  Hannibal , Woolwich,  1905.”  No.  48. 

“Entrance  to  a Canal  at  Bruges.”  No.  56. 

“ Barges,  Bruges.”  No.  67. 

“Certificate  for  the  Shipping  Federation  of  the  Port  of  London.” 
No.  69. 

“Barge-Builders,  Hammersmith.”  No.  77. 

“Breaking  up  the  Caledonia  at  Charlton.”  No.  78. 

“The  Tow-Rope,  Bruges,  1906.”  No.  79. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice.”  Nos.  88  and  no. 

“ Boat-Builders,  Venice.”  No.  91. 

“Boatyard,  Venice.”  No.  92. 

“Certificate  for  the  Master  Shipwrights’  Company.”  No.  108. 
“Unloading  Wine  from  a Merchantman  at  Night,  Venice.”  No.  109. 
“Sunshine  and  Shadow:  A Venetian  Funeral.”  No.  123. 

“Barges,  Nieuport.” 

“ Boatyard,  Venice  ” (2). 

“Venetian  Boats.” 


2 I 


249 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 


MILLS,  WINDMILLS,  BRIDGES 

“ London  Bridge  ” (2).  No.  9. 

“The  Water-Mill,  Brentford.”  No.  15. 

“The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle.”  Nos.  33  and  74. 
“Mill  Wheel  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  35. 

“ Mill  Bridge  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  36. 

“The  Mills,  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  37. 

“Old  Kew  Bridge.”  No.  59. 

“The  Rialto,  Venice.”  No.  60. 

“The  Bridge  of  Sighs,  Venice.” 

“Windmills  at  Bruges.”  No.  62. 

“A  Paper-Mill  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer,  1907.”  No.  90. 
“Fulling-Mill  at  Montreuil.”  No.  99. 

“The  Black  Mill  at  Winchelsea.”  No.  131. 

“ Mill  at  Dixmude.” 

“ Windmill  at  Dixmude.” 

“ Mill  at  Furnes.” 

“ Brentford  Bridge.”  No.  29. 

“ The  Bridge  at  Alcantara.” 

“ Bridge  over  the  Tarn.” 

“The  Valentr6  Bridge,  Cahors.” 

“ A Bridge,  Bruges.” 

SIMPLE  LANDSCAPE 

“A  Road  in  Picardy."  No.  8. 

“Strand  on  the  Green.”  Nos.  23  and  39. 

“Trees  with  Snow.”  No.  25. 

“Fairlight.”  No.  31. 

“The  Maple-Tree,  Barnard  Castle.”  No.  34. 

“A  Road  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.”  No.  38. 

“ Hesdin.”  No.  121. 

“A  Storm,  near  Craven  Cottage,  Fulham.”  No.  24. 

“ A Village  Green.” 

« A Cliff  Village.” 

“The  Moat.” 

“ On  the  Lot  at  St.  Cirq.” 

250 


«. Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

“The  River  Lot.” 

“Tour  de  Faure.” 

“ On  the  Road  to  Figeac.” 

“ The  Lot  at  Vers.” 

“ Canal,  Dixmude.” 

“ Canal,  Venice.” 

SACRED 

“ The  Crucifixion.” 

“The  Nativity.” 

“ Via  Dolorosa.” 

There  have  been  six  exhibitions  on  the  Continent  of  Brangwyn 
etchings  and  lithographs,  all  arranged  by  his  foreign  agent,  M.  Bramson, 
Galerie  d’Art  Decoratif,  7 Rue  Laffitte,  Paris. 

1906,  at  Paris  ; 1907,  at  Stockholm  ; 1909,  at  Paris  ; 1909,  at 
Brussels  ; 1910,  at  Florence;  1910,  at  Rome. 

ETCHINGS  IN  PUBLIC  GALLERIES 

Australia,  The  National  Gallery. 

“The  Card  Players”  ; “The  Bridge  at  Avignon.” 

Barcelona , Museum  of  Modern  Art. 

“ A Butcher’s  Shop  ” ; “ Building  the  New  Victoria  and  Albert 
Museum  at  South  Kensington”;  “Breaking  up  the  Hannibal ”; 
“The  Tan-Pit”;  “The  Rialto,  Venice”;  “Old  Women,  Bruges”; 
“ Windmills,  Bruges  ” ; “ Ghent  Gate,  Bruges  ” ; “ Bottle-Washers, 
Bruges”;  “Barges,  Bruges”;  “Old  Houses,  Ghent”;  “Breaking 
up  the  Caledonia"  ; “The  Tow-Rope”;  “The  Return  from  Work”; 
and  “Santa  Maria  della  Salute,”  No.  88. 

Berlin , Royal  Print  Room. 

“The  Shipbuilding  Yard,  London”;  and  “The  Turkish  Ceme- 
tery.” 

Bradford , Corporation  Museum. 

“ A Storm,  near  Craven  Cottage,  Fulham.” 


251 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 

Bremen , Kiinsthalle. 

“London  Bridge"  (2);  and  “The  Mill-Wheel,  Montreuil-sur- 
Mer." 

Brussels,  Royal  Library. 

“A  Road  in  Picardy";  “A  Butcher’s  Shop";  “Old  Women, 
Bruges  " ; “ Brewery,  Bruges  ” (2)  ; “ Ghent  Gate,  Bruges  ” ; “ Bottle- 
Washers,  Bruges";  “Barges,  Bruges";  “Old  Houses,  Ghent"; 
“The  Tow-Rope”;  “Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice,"  No.  88; 
and  “ Man  on  a Barrel,”  lithograph. 

Budapest,  National  Museum . 

“ Breaking  up  the  Caledonia .” 

Buenos  Ayres,  the  Museum. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice,”  No.  88. 

Christiania,  Museum  of  Art. 

“ Road  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer  ” ; “ Laveurs  de  Laine,"  lithograph. 

Dresden,  Royal  Print  Room. 

“Assisi”;  “A  Turkish  Cemetery”;  “Building  the  New  Victoria 
and  Albert  Museum,  South  Kensington  ” ; “ Shipbuilders,  Green- 
wich,” No.  47. 

Florence,  Les  Offices. 

“A  Butcher’s  Shop”;  “Shipbuilders,  Greenwich,”  No.  47; 
“The  Tan-Pit”;  “Church  of  St.  Austreberthe  at  Montreuil-sur- 
Mer  ” ; and  “ Breaking  up  the  Caledonia .”  A lithograph — “ Har- 
vesters.” 

Gothenburg,  Goteborgs  Museum. 

“The  Tan-Pit”  ; “Barges,  Bruges.” 


Lugano,  Civic  Museum. 

“The  Tow-Rope.” 

Mahno,  the  Museum. 
“Assisi.” 

252 


a Appendix  II. : Etchings — Classified 

Milan , Gallery  of  Modern  Art. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice,’’  No.  88. 

Miihlhausen,  the  Museum. 

“Mill-Wheel  at  Montreuil-sur-Mer.” 

Naples , Museum  of  San  Martino. 

“Castello  della  Ziza,  Palermo.” 

Paris,  National  Library. 

“ Shipbuilding  Yard,  London”;  “The  Storm";  “Mill-Wheel  at 
Montreuil”  ; “ Brickmakers  ” ; “Breaking  up  the  Hannibal ”;  “Old 
Kew  Bridge”;  “Certificate  for  the  Shipping  Federation  of  the  Port 
of  London”;  “The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle  ”(2);  “Santa  Maria 
della  Salute,  Venice”  ; “The  Bark-Strippers.” 

Rome , National  Print  Room. 

“A  Butcher’s  Shop”;  “Building  the  New  Victoria  and  Albert 
Museum  at  South  Kensington”;  “ Brewery,  Bruges”  ; “The  Storm”; 
“Church  of  St.  Nicolas,  Furnes.” 

This  museum  owns  two  Brangwyn  drawings  : “ Loading  Barrels, 
London  ” ; and  “ Two  Old  Women.” 

Rome , Gallery  of  Modern  Art. 

“The  Bridge,  Barnard  Castle  ”(2)  ; “ Hammersmith  ” (3),  No.  49; 
“ Old  Houses,  Ghent  ” ; “ Santa  Maria  della  Salute,”  No.  88  ; 

“Church  of  Sainte-Austreberthe,  Montreuil-sur-Mer”  ; “ Boatbuilders, 
Venice”;  “A  Coal-Mine  after  an  Explosion”;  “Building  the  New 
Museum,  South  Kensington.” 

South  Kensington , Victoria  and  Albert  Museum. 

“ Assisi  ” ; “ Road  in  Picardy  ” ; “ London  Bridge  ” (2)  ; “ London 
Bridge  ”(3);  “Building  the  New  Victoria  and  Albert  Museum”; 
“Breaking  up  the  Hannibal”  ; and  “Certificate  for  the  Shipping 
Federation  of  the  Port  of  London.” 

Stockholm,  Museum. 

“ The  Tree,  Hammersmith  ” ; “ Old  Houses,  Ghent  ” ; “ Breaking 
up  the  Caledonia"',  “The  Tow-Rope”;  and  “Building  the  New 
Victoria  and  Albert  Museum  at  South  Kensington.” 


253 


Frank  Frangwyn  and  his  JFork 


Stuttgart,  Royal  Print  Room . 

“London  Bridge  ”(2). 

Vienna,  Royal  Print  Room. 

“London  Bridge " (2) ; “ Castello  della  Ziza,  Palermo";  “A 
Butcher’s  Shop."  A collection  of  170  prints  now  in  this  gallery. 

Venice,  Gallery  of  Modern  Art. 

“Santa  Maria  della  Salute,  Venice,"  No.  88. 

Ziirich,  Polytechnic. 

“A  Road  in  Picardy"  ; “The  Rialto,  Venice." 

There  are  prints  also  at  Elberfeld,  Frankfurt,  Hamburg,  and 
Munich. 

The  British  Museum,  London,  has  a large  collection. 

The  Albertina,  Vienna,  has  a large  collection  of  drawings  now. 
Munich  has  a collection  now  of  170  prints. 


54 


APPENDIX  III 


LITHOGRAPHS 

“ Men  carrying  Fruit.” 

“ Man  with  Hoe.” 

“ Drink.” 

“ Music.” 

“ Men  cutting  Corn.” 

“ The  Furnace.” 

“ Men  unloading  Boxes.” 

“ The  Platelayers.” 

“ Men  Spinning.” 

“ Girls  Dancing.” 

“ Boy  with  Gourd.” 

“ Bag-piping.”  Published  in  Germinal , Paris. 
“ Drink.” 

“ Two  Men  Drinking.” 

“ Girls  Bathing.” 

“ Beggars.” 

“ Men  carrying  a Plank.” 

“ Platelayers.” 

“ Unloading  a Case,  London  Bridge.” 

“The  Pool.”  First  version,  only  state. 

“ The  Pool.”  Second  version,  first  state. 
“The  Pool.”  Second  version,  third  state. 

“ Sand-Dredger.” 

“ Men  with  Barrels.” 

“ Brickmakers.” 

“ Labour.”  First  state. 

“ Skin-Scrapers.” 

“ Labour.”  Second  state. 

“Washing  Skins.” 

“ Columbus  Sighting  the  New  World.” 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JVork 


“ Loot." 

“ Unloading  Orange  Boxes.”  Black. 

“ Unloading  Orange  Boxes.”  Sepia. 

“ Man  with  Hoe.”  Black. 

“ Spanish  Wine  Shop.” 

“ Man  with  Basket.”  Dark  sepia. 

“ Music.” 

“ Man  with  Barrel.”  Black. 

“ Man  carrying  Pot.” 

“ Tapping  a Furnace.”  Red. 

“ Hadrian  Building  his  Wall.” 

“ Steel-making.”  Red. 

“ Mowers.” 

“ Steel-making.”  Dark  sepia. 

“The  Return. 

“ Certificate  for  a Rowing  Club.” 

“Tower  Bridge.” 

“ Ronda.” 

“ A Swiss  Ravine.” 

“ Man  carrying  Box.” 

“Tapping  a Steel  Furnace.”  Published  in  Revue  de  L' Art  Ancien  et 
Moderne. 

“ Feast  of  Lazarus.” 

“ Poster,  Underground  Railway.” 

“ Laveurs  de  Laine.” 

“ Harvesters.” 

OTHER  HONOURS 

Frank  Brangwyn  has  been  elected  into  five  important  Academies 
of  Art.  They  comprise  La  Societe  Nationale  des  Beaux  Arts,  Paris  ; 
La  Society  Royale  Beige  ; the  Royal  Academy  of  Milan  ; The  Royal 
Academy,  Stockholm  ; A.R.A.,  England  ; Royal  Academy,  Berlin  ; Royal 
Scottish  Academy,  hon.  member ; and  Society  Royale  Beige  des  Aqua- 
rellistes  ; Cavaliere  of  the  Order  of  the  Crown  of  Italy. 


256 


APPENDIX  IV 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

CHOSEN  ARTICLES  AND  REVIEWS 

The  “ Studio  ” Magazine 

1893,  vol.  i.  “ Spain  as  a Sketching  Ground  ” (1).  By  Frank  Brangwyn. 
1893,  vol.  i.  “ Spain  as  a Sketching  Ground”  (2).  By  Frank  Brangwyn. 
1897,  vol.  xii.  “Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  Art.”  By  J.  Stanley  Little. 

1899,  vol.  xvi.  “Frank  Brangwyn’s  Stained-Glass  Designs.”  Editorial. 

1900,  vol.  xix.  “ A Bedroom  Decorated  by  Frank  Brangwyn.”  Editorial. 
1903,  vol.  xxviii.  “ Frank  Brangwyn’s  Landscapes  and  Still  Life.”  By 

Sehvyn  Image. 

1905,  vol.  xxxiv.  “ Scheme  for  the  Decoration  of  the  British  Section  at 
the  Venice  Exhibition.”  By  Arthur  S.  Covey. 

1906,  vol.  xxxix.  “The  New  Panel  for  the  Royal  Exchange.”  By 
Arthur  S.  Covey. 

1907,  vol.  xl.  “The  Brangwyn  Room  at  the  City  Art  Gallery,  Leeds.” 
By  Arthur  S.  Covey. 

1907,  vol.  xli.  “Decorative  Panels  in  the  British  Section  of  the  Venice 
Exhibition.”  By  Arthur  S.  Covey. 

1909,  vol.  xlviii.  “ Tempera  Frieze  at  the  new  London  Offices  of  the 
Grand  Trunk  Railway.”  By  E.  Trumbull. 

1911.  Article  by  W.  K.  West  in  “Studio.” 

“ The  Artist “ The  Magazine  of  Arif  and  “ The  Art  Journal " 

May  1897.  “The  Artist.”  General  article  by  P.  G.  Konody. 

March  1903.  “Art  Journal.”  General  article  by  F.  Rinder. 

February’  1903.  “Magazine  of  Art.”  “The  Decorative  Work  of  Frank 
Brangwyn.”  By  P.  G.  Konodyn  This  article  belongs  to  a series  by 
Mr.  Konody,  good  alike  in  text  and  in  illustrations. 

2 K. 


257 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

1914.  Work  published  by  Berlin  Photographic  Co.,  Berlin. 

February  1914.  Article  in  “The  Architectural  Review.” 

Autobiographical  and  Interviews 
May  28,  1898.  “Great  Thoughts.”  Interview. 

February  7,  1904.  “The  Weekly  Dispatch.”  An  interview  entitled 
“ Brine  and  Brush.” 

February  27,  1904.  “ M.A.P.”  Autobiographical  sketch. 

May  1905.  “The  World.”  “Celebrities  at  Home.”  No.  MCCCLI. 
March  1907.  “The  Magazine  of  Commerce.” 

1907.  “ Spirit  of  the  Age.”  By  W.  S.  Sparrow. 

American  Publications 

December  1897.  “ Arts  for  America.”  “ Frank  Brangwyn.”  By  Lorado 

Taft. 

January  1904.  “Scribner’s  Magazine.”  General  article  by  M.  H. 

Spielmann.  Suggestive  and  thorough. 

1911.  “ Scribner’s  Magazine.” 

“ Art  et  Decoration Paris 

Juillet  1899.  An  excellent  study  by  Fierens-Gevaert. 

Fevrier  1900.  A good  article  by  Arthur  Layard. 

Janvier  1905.  A general  review,  thoughtful  and  suggestive,  by  L6once 
B£n6dite. 

Mars  1909.  “ Les  Eaux-Fortes  de  Frank  Brangwyn.”  T.  Desteve. 

Octobre  1909.  “ Brangwyn,  Decorateur.”  By  Maurice  Guillemot. 

Septembre  1910.  “ L’Art  Decoratif.”  By  William  Ritter. 

Janvier  1912.  “ Le  Temps.”  Article  by  Thiebault-Sisson. 

Janvier  1912.  “ Le  Figaro.”  Article  by  Emil  Verhaere. 

Mars  1912.  “Revue  de  l’Art  Ancien  et  Moderne.”  By  Gustave  Soolie. 

Mars  1912.  “Gazette  des  Beaux  Arts.”  By  Roger  Marx. 

258 


^Appendix  IV \ : Bibliography 


Italian  Publications 

April  1899.  “Emporium.”  General  article  by  Mario  Borsa. 

April  1905.  “ L’lllustrazione  Italiana.”  Article  by  Mario  Borsa. 

November  16,  1909.  “ Nuova  Antologia.”  Article  by  Mario  Borsa. 

April  1910.  “L’lllustrazione  Italiana.”  The  Etchings.  By  Ugo  Ojetti. 
Serie  1,  Fascicolo  16.  “ La  Galleria  d’Arte  Moderna  di  Venezia.”  Vittoria 

Pica  studies  the  work  of  Brangwyn,  and  gives  a good  colour-plate  of 
“ St.  Simeon  Stylites.” 

Serie  3,  Fascicolo  8.  “ Attraverso  Gli  Albi  e le  Cartelle.”  Etchings 
and  Lithographs.  Vittorio  Pica.  Istituto  Italiano  d’Arti  Grafiche, 

Bergamo. 

August  1911.  “II  Secola.”  Article  by  Vittorio  Pica. 


German  and  Austrian  Publications 

December  1897.  “ Dekorative  Kunst,”  Munich.  A review  giving  a large 

colour-plate  of  the  “ Vine  ” wall-hanging. 

1900.  “Kunst  und  Kunsthandwerk.”  A good  study  by  P.  G.  Konody. 

1905.  “Die  Graphischen  Kiinste,"  Vienna.  An  article  by  Campbell 
Dodgson. 

1906.  “ Meister  der  Farbe,”  Leipzig.  An  article  by  W.  Gibson,  with  a 
good  colour-plate  of  “The  Goatherds.” 

January-February  1909.  “ Erdgeist,”  Vienna.  An  article. 

1909.  “Die  Graphischen  Kiinste,”  Vienna.  The  Etchings.  By  Dr. 
Arpad  Weixlgartner. 

May  1910.  “Die  Kunst  fur  Alle.”  The  Etchings.  By  Fortunat  v. 
Schubert-Soldern. 

May  1910.  “ Erzherzog  Rainer  Museum  fair  Kunst.”  Article  by  A.  S. 

Scretus. 

May  1910.  “ Dilo  Prague.”  Article  by  William  Ritter. 

March  1912.  “Die  Kunst  fiir  Alle.” 

February  1912.  “Museum,”  Barcelona.  Article  by  Manuel  Rodriquez 
Codola. 

For  a penetrating  study  of  the  etchings,  see  “ Peintres  de  Race,”  by 
Marius-Ary  Leblond,  1910,  G.  van  Oest  et  Cie,  Bruxelles. 


259 


Frank  Brangwyn  and  his  JFork 

Many  persons  are  interested  in  “The  Buccaneers,”  a picture  that 
makes  the  turning-point  in  the  artist’s  career  ; and  I have  been  asked  to 
give  a selection  from  the  many  notices  that  appeared  in  France: — 

June  3,  1893.  “La  Revue  Hebdomadaire.”  By  Claude  Bienne. 

May  29,  1893.  “Journal  des  Artistes.”  By  Raoul  Sertat  ; also  “La 
Revue  Encyclopedique,”  May  19. 

June  1893.  “Revue  des  Deux  Mondes.”  By  Lafenestre.  The  critic 
prefers  “The  Funeral  at  Sea.” 

May  7,  1893.  “ Monde  Artiste.”  By  Lucas. 

May  5,  1893.  “Grande  Bataille.”  By  Jourdain. 

April  29,  1893.  “ Liberte.”  By  Pallier. 

May  7,  1893.  “ Echo  de  la  Semaine.”  By  Gustave  Geffroy. 

June  1,  1893.  “Muse  des  Families.”  By  Gaston  Migeon. 

May  19,  1893.  “Gazette  de  France.”  By  Kersant. 

May  19,  1893.  “ Univers  IllustrG”  By  P.  Havard. 

April  30,  1893.  “Voltaire.”  By  Roger  Marx. 

May  9,  1893.  “Temps.”  By  Ary  Renan. 

May  9,  1893.  “Journal.”  By  Mirbeau. 

May  1893.  “Revue  Socialiste.”  By  Gervaise. 

January  1905.  “Art  et  Decoration.”  By  L6once  Benedite. 

1907.  “ On  Art  and  Artists.”  By  Max  Nordau  (London,  Fisher  Unwin). 
See  the  appreciation  of  Brangwyn’s  early  works — “The  Funeral  at 
Sea,”  “All  Hands  Aloft,”  “The  Buccaneers,”  “The  Goatherds,” 
“ The  Adoration  of  the  Magi,”  “ The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes," 
“ The  Scoffers,"  and  “ St.  Simeon  Stylites.” 

1908.  For  a notice  by  Henri  Marcel,  see  “The  Etched  Work  of  Frank 
Brangwyn,”  published  by  the  Fine  Art  Society,  London. 


260 


INDEX 


Abbey,  E.  A.,  8,  121 
Academy , the,  41 
^Esthetic  period  in  England,  10 
Alexander,  William,  53 
Allan,  Sir  William,  55 
Alma  Tadema,  Sir  Lawrence,  10 
Anderson,  Kenneth  S.,  72,  111 
Angelo,  Michael,  65,  102,  146,  160,  191 
Angles  and  vigour,  173 
Anglo-Celts  and  Anglo-Welsh,  2 
Antagonism  of  light  and  colour  in  painting, 
88 

“Arabian  Nights,”  the,  182 
Arnold,  Emst,  vii 
Arnold,  Matthew,  2 
Art  and  conservatism,  47 

and  criticism,  36-37 

and  industrialism,  4 

and  modern  education,  71 

antiquity  in  English,  63 

Art,  decorative,  1 19-21 

emotion  in,  1 12-13 

in  its  relation  to  modern  life,  196-205 

inspiration  in,  108-9 

literary  appeal  in,  126 

masculine  verms  feminine,  191-96 

mural,  73,  104,  121,  140,  158 

Nouveau,  L’,  132,  133,  212 

orientation  in,  53 

preference  of  English  for  feminine 

qualities  in,  10 

prettiness  in,  38,  56,  192 

religious,  56,  67-70 

versatility  in,  206 

Artist,  facilities  in  creating  desired  effect 
enjoyed  by,  69-70 

Artists,  British,  their  liking  for  feminine 
qualities  of  style,  192 
Assisi,  122 

Athenaeum,  the,  44,  51,  59,  70-71,  1 1 7 
Atmosphere,  the  difficulty  of  obtaining,  89 


Bacon,  Francis,  152 
Baldry,  A.  Lvs,  122 


“Baptism  of  Christ,”  122 

Barcelona,  122,  201 

Bassano,  Cesare,  60 

Bastien-Lepage,  Jules,  10,  29,  62 

Baudelaire,  Charles  Pierre,  68 

Beauty,  definition  of,  69 

Benddite,  Leonce,  34,  40,  47,  55,  60,  183 

Beraud,  Jean,  56 

Besnard,  Albert,  46,  130,  133 

Bibliotheque  Nationale,  168 

Bing,  M.,  212,  214 

Binyon,  Laurence,  122 

Blackie,  Messrs.,  181 

Boldini,  79 

Bonington,  Richard  P.,  55,  91 
Bonnier,  Louis,  133 
Borsa,  Mario,  250 
Botticelli,  Sandro,  150,  151 
Bouguereau,  56 

Brabazon,  H.  B.,  affinity  of  style  between 
artist  and,  22 

Bramson,  M.,  foreign  agent  for  Brangwyn’s 
etchings,  vii,  190 
Brangwin,  Noah,  3,  4 

Brangwyn,  Curtis,  the  painter’s  father,  3,  4, 

5i  7,  8 

Brangwyn,  Frank,  parentage,  1 ; birth  of, 
5 ; enters  his  father’s  office,  7 ; comes  to 
England,  7;  artistic  forerunners  of,  10, 
54,  55  ; becomes  an  art  student,  10; 
William  Morris,  12-15;  second  picture 
exhibited  and  purchased,  19;  voyage  to 
Asia  Minor,  19,  20  ; influence  of  Eastern 
colour  and  sunlight  on,  20,  106;  sketches 
at  Royal  Arcade  Gallery,  21  ; journey  to 
Spain,  22-25  ; journey  to  South  Africa,  25- 
26  ; joins  Institute  of  British  Artists,  28  ; 
pictures  exhibited  1889-1902,  31-32  ; Cor- 
nish period,  31-32,  34;  and  R.  L.  Steven- 
son>  33  1 affinity  to  Smollett,  33;  parallel 
between  Victor  Hugo  and,  33  ; end  of 
student  period,  34-35;  “Funeral  at  Sea,” 
38-42  ; and  foreign  critics,  38,  60,  72  ; 
“ Buccaneers,”  43-48 ; success  in  Paris, 
46 ; “ Slave  Traders,”  49  ; “ Slave 

26l 


Index 


Market,”  49-52 ; and  religious  art,  56, 
67-70;  “Eve,”  57  ; “Gold,  Frankincense 
and  Myrrh,”  57-60 ; “ Rest,”  60-62  ; 
“ Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,”  62- 
65  ; “ St.  Simeon  Stylites,”  62-67  ; pic- 
tures from  African  and  Eastern  life,  71; 
in  his  relation  to  the  French  Impres- 
sionists, 77,  79  ; colour  and  light  in  art 
of,  80-81  ; impressionism  of,  85  ; “ Rajah’s 
Birthday,”  83  ; “ Mars  and  Venus,”  93-94  ; 
treatment  of  reflected  light,  94 ; “ Card 
Players,”  96  ; “Return  from  the  Promised 
Land,”  96-97  ; as  a colourist,  102  ; decora- 
tive work  of,  104-105,  1 18;  treatment  of 
values,  106-107  ! sense  of  drama  in,  107; 
“Wine,”  109-110;  sentiment  of,  1 12-13; 
“Venetian  Funeral,”  1 13-15;  liking  for 
crowds,  115-16;  “Charity,”  116-17; 
friendly  critics  of,  122  ; strength  and 
vigour  of,  13 1 ; decorative  work  in  the 
Royal  Exchange,  137-43  ; decorative  work 
in  the  Skinners’  Hall,  149-61  ; Sketches 
and  Studies,  164-74;  water-colour  work  of, 
176-79;  illustrations  and  designs,  181-84; 
method  of  etching,  185  ; masculinity  in 
the  art  of,  193-96;  art  of,  in  relation  to 
modern  life,  196-205  ; Austrian  Great 
Gold  Medal  awarded  to,  202  ; designs  for 
house  furnishing  by,  207  ; home  of,  217- 
18 ; a selected  list  of  pictures  and  sketches 
by,  219-237  ; etchings  by,  classified,  238- 
254;  lithographs,  255-256;  bibliography! 
257-260 

Brangwyn,  Mrs.,  the  painter’s  mother,  4,  5 
Bremen,  201 
Breton,  Jules,  205 
Brett,  John,  1 1 1 
Brierley,  O.  Wr.,  in 
Brooking,  in 
Brown,  F.  Madox,  1 34-135 
Browning,  Robert,  69,  166,  167,  218 
Bruges,  the  artist’s  life  at,  5,  6 
Brussels,  201 
Brussels  Academy,  173 
“Buccaneers,”  the,  43-48,  57,  60,  131,  226, 
251 

Budapest,  201 
Burne-Jones,  Sir  E.,  9,  68 
“Butcher’s  Shop,”  the,  199-200 

Caillebotte  collection,  the,  97-98 
Cambridge  Press,  U-S.A.,  the,  181 
Caradoc  Press,  the,  184 
“ Card  Players,”  96 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  73,  166 

262 


Cattermole,  George,  176 
Century , the,  181 
Cervantes,  182 
Chambers,  George,  in 
“ Charity,”  116-17,  131 
Chavannes,  Puvis  de,  114,  128,  147,  148, 
156,  157,  164 
Chicago,  122 
Chippendale,  207,  209 
Christiania,  201 
Chromo-spiritualism,  90 
“ Cider  Press,”  the,  231 
Claus,  Emile,  79 
Clausen,  197 
Cole,  William  O.,  66 
Colliers  Weekly , 181,  233 
Colour  and  the  emotions,  82 
Colour  in  relation  to  nature  and  art,  80 
Colour-sense,  individual,  101-102 
Constable,  John,  76,  106,  193 
Cook,  Captain,  53 
Cooke,  E.  W.,  hi 

Cornwall,  pictures  exhibited  as  a result  of 
sojourn  in,  31-32 

stay  in,  31 

Corot,  Jean  Baptiste,  89,  106 
Correggio,  Antonio  A.,  76 
Cotman,  John  S.,  75,  91,  165,  175 
Cottet,  Charles,  22,  79,  101,  112 
Covey,  Arthur  S.,  249 
Cox,  David,  16,  54,  91,  175 
Cozens,  A.,  16 
Criticism,  art,  36-7 

envy  in,  147 

genius  and,  161 

Critics  and  conservatism,  75,  76 

and  modern  decoration,  144 

and  modernism,  75 

and  values,  98,  99,  100 

Cunningham,  Allan,  82 
Cupples,  George,  182 
Cuyp,  Albert,  89 


Daily  News,  the,  222 

Daily  Telegi'aph,  the,  27,41,  44,  114, 163,  202 

Daniell,  W.,  91 

Daumier,  196 

Davis,  E.  J,  208,  209 

Decamps,  A.  G.,  55 

Decoration,  mural,  186-87 

Degas,  Edgar  H.  G.,  77 

Degroux,  Charles,  6,  10,  35,  1 1 2,  197 

Dehodencq,  Alfred,  55 

Delacroix,  F.  V.  E.,  46,  55,  172 


Index 


“Departure  of  Lancaster,”  157-59 
Destdve,  M.  T.,  201 
Devitt,  T.  L.,  vii,  72,  15 1 
Domenichino,  163 
“ Don  Quixote,”  1 8 1 
Donatello,  10 

Drama  in  modern  mechanical  inventions,  167 

Draper,  Warwick  H.,  vii,  184,  235 

Dresden,  201 

Dublin,  122 

Dufrenoy,  Ldon,  107 

Dumas  pdre,  Alexandre,  21S 

Diirer,  Albrecht,  118 


East,  Sir  Alfred,  229,  231 
Edward  VII.,  artist’s  drawing  comme- 
morating funeral  of,  7 
Elberfeld,  201 
Emotion  in  art,  1 12-13 
England,  aesthetic  period  in,  10 
English  artists  and  sun-colour,  55 
English  artists  and  their  liking  for  ferpsnine 
qualities  of  style,  10 

English  critics  discourage  Brangwyn,  38,  48 
English  idea  of  good  draughtsmanship,  the, 
165 

“Etched  work  of  Frank  Brangwyn,”  the,  183 
Etchings,  classified  list  of,  236 
Etty,  William,  103 
Evans,  Edmund,  vii 
“ Eve,”  57 

Evening  News,  148-49 


Fantin-Latour,  Henri,  10 
Feminine  art,  191-92 

Fergusson,  J.  D.,  on  business  methods  and 
architecture,  4 
Fidrens-Gevaert,  M.  H.,  212 
Fine  Art  Society,  168,  183,  190,  235 
FitzGerald,  Edward,  183 
Flandrin,  J.  H.,  67,  68,  69 
Flatness  of  tints,  128-29 
Floor  decoration,  guiding  principle  of,  212 
Forbes,  Stanhope,  in,  221 
Foreign  critics  in  relation  to  painter’s  work, 
38,  72 

Fortnightly  Review , the,  48 
Frankfurt,  201 
Frederic,  Ldon,  112 

French  Impressionists,  61,  77,  78,  79,  85,  88, 
97,  107,  125,  214 

Frieze  at  Grand  Trunk  Railway  Office,  129 
for  L’Art  Nouveau,  132-3 


Frieze  in  the  Palazzo  Rezzonico,  21 1 
Frith,  W.  P.,  9,  54,  218 
“ Funeral  at  Sea,”  the,  38-42,  122,  221 
Furniture,  how  to  polish  good,  209 
Furse,  C.  W.,  84 


Gainsborough,  Thomas,  8,  82,  91 
Gambier-Parry  system,  the,  134-35 
Ganz,  H.  F.  W.,  vii,  185,  227 
Geffroy,  Gustave,  46,  71 
Genius  and  criticism,  161 

and  realism,  90 

and  sex,  191 

and  the  sub-conscious,  90 

“Gentle  Art,”  Whistler’s,  187 

George  III.  of  England,  137 

Georges,  Lafenestre,  33,  40 

Gibbings  & Co.,  Messrs.,  vii,  181,  182,  183 

Gimson,  Mr.,  207 

Girtin,  Thomas,  16,  107,  175,  177 

Glasgow,  122 

Corporation,  43 

Glasgow  Herald , 225 

Goethe,  Wolfgang  von,  74,  77 

“ Gold,  Frankincense  and  Myrrh,”  57-60,  131 

Gothenburg,  201 

Grafton  Galleries,  43,  57,  214 

Grand  Trunk  Railway,  Office  of,  129 

Graphic , the,  18 1,  222 

Greig,  Edward,  114 

Guillemot,  Maurice,  34,  47,  250 

Guthrie,  79 


Hamburg,  201 
Hardy,  Dudley,  227 

T.  B.,  hi 

Plarrison,  T.  E.,  79 
Hayes,  Edwin,  42,  43,  in 
Heine,  Heinrich,  58 
Henry,  C.  Napier,  ill 
Heppelwhite,  207 
Herkomer,  Hubert  von,  10 
Heymans,  Johannes,  79 
Hind,  Lewis,  148-5:,  154 
History,  Landscape  and,  81 
Hobbema,  Meindert,  178,  190 
Hoboken  Etching  Club,  the,  187,  188 
Hodder  & Stoughton,  Messrs.,  183 
Holbein,  Hans,  118 
Holl,  Frank,  10 
Holland,  55,  92 
Holme,  Charles,  122 
Hook,  James  C.,  42,  43,  in 


263 


Index 


Horsley,  G.  C.,  21 1 

Hugo,  Victor,  33,  34,  73,  164 

Hunt,  William,  6,  25,  124,  176 

William  Holman,  10 

Hunter,  Colin,  15,  in 


Image,  Selwyn,  122-25 
Inconsistency  of  English  art  critics,  87 
Infinite,  the,  19 
Ingres,  J.  A.  D.,  172 
Inspiration  in  art,  108-109 
Institute  of  British  Artists,  artist  becomes  a 
member  of,  28 

Institute  of  Oil  Painters,  artist  becomes  a 
member  of,  29 
Israels,  J.,  6 


Jacobs,  Joseph,  183 

Japanese  Gallery,  exhibition  of  sketches  at, 
26-27 

Joan  of  Arc,  62 

Johannesburg  Art  Gallery,  the,  96,  122 

Jones,  Sir  Horace,  4 

Jordaens,  Jakob,  no 

Jourdain,  67 

Jouvenet,  1 19 


Kelk,  Sir  John,  43 

Kempis,  Thomas  k,  1 5 1 

Kersant,  46 

Khnopff,  Fernand,  5 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  72,  181 

Kitson,  R.  H.,  vii,  72 

Konody,  P.  G.,  122,  125-131,  173,  249 

Kroyer,  79 

Kuehl,  79 


Lafenestre,  Georges,  67,  68,  70 

Lamb,  Charles,  149 

Landscape  and  human  history,  81 

Lane,  E.  W.,  182 

Larkin,  Mr.,  commission  from,  25 

La  Thangue,  197 

Lavery,  John,  79 

Lawson,  Cecil,  10 

Layard,  Arthur,  165 

Le  Brun,  119 

Leeds,  122 

Legros,  Alphonse,  8,  10,  101,  in,  112,  131, 
187,  188,  189,  197 
Leighton,  Frederick  (Lord),  9,  36 
264 


Leighton,  Robert,  181 
Lessing,  170 
Lesueur,  1 19 
Lewis,  J.  F.,  43,  53,  92 
Liebermann,  Max,  56,  79 
Light  and  colour,  antagonism  in  painting 
of,  88 

Literature  and  art,  126 

Little,  J.  S.,  122,  249 

Lloyd’s  Register,  overmantles  at,  135-36 

Lodge,  Sir  Oliver,  89 

Lombroso,  Cesare,  87 

Loutherbourg,  De,  91 

Lugano,  201 

Luini,  Bernadino,  102 

Luxembourg,  the,  122,  177 


M.A.P.,  article  on  the  artist  appearing  in, 
5-  17 

Mabbe,  James,  182 
Macartney,  Lord,  53 
MacCulloch,  James,  72 
Macfall,  Haldane,  122,  203,  227 
Mackmurdo,  A.  H.,  artist  influenced  by,  II, 
12 

Maclise,  Daniel,  134 
Maclure's  Magazine,  18 1 
Maeterlinck,  Maurice,  5 
Magazine  of  Art,  the,  125,  225,  249 
Malmo,  201 

Manchester  Examiner , the,  41 
Manchester  Guardian , the,  44,  50 
Manet,  Edouard,  9,  46,  77,  88,  98, 163 
Mansergh,  Cornewall  Lewis,  72 
Mantegna,  Andrea,  11,  12,  160,  21 1 
Marcel,  Henri,  33,  47,  168,  183,  199 
Marine  painting,  43 
“ Mars  and  Venus,”  93-94,  122 
Martin,  Henri,  65 
Marx,  Roger,  40,  48 
Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  62 
Mason,  George,  10,  19 1,  192 
Mauclair,  Camille,  77,  85,  99 
Melville,  Arthur,  22,  44,  177,  178,  179 
Meryon,  81 

Messina  sketches,  the,  176 
Meunier,  Constantin,  10,  hi,  112,  119,  162, 
170, 191,  192,  196,  197,  198,  214 
Meynell,  Mrs.  Alice,  95 
Michetti,  79 

Middle  Ages,  window  decoration  in  the, 
215-16 

Migeon,  Gaston,  48,  172 
Milan,  201 


Index 


Milburn,  Sir  John  Davison,  136 
Millais,  Sir  John  E.,  9 
Millet,  Jean  Frangois,  10,  12,  29,30,  56,  106, 
1 12, 1 1 5,  1 19,  162,  205 
Milton,  John,  90 

“ Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes,”  62-65 
Modern  decoration,  critics  and,  144 
Monet,  Claude,  77,  78,  79,  80,  82,  85,  89, 
99 

Monomy,  ill 

Moods  in  decorative  art,  the  danger  of,  151 
Moore,  Albert,  10 

George,  61,  77,  122,  161 

Moore,  Henry,  42,43,  ill 

“ Moorish  Well,”  a,  122 
Morgan,  William  de,  14 
Morland,  George,  affinity  of  artist’s  work  to, 
29 

Morley,  Lord,  69, 147 
Mornmg  Post , the,  32,  44,  45,  72 
Morris,  William,  12,  13,  14,  15,  34,  207,  214, 
2I5 

Mourey,  Gabriel,  181 
Miihlhausen,  201 

Muller,  William,  53,  54,  92,  176,  177 
Munich,  122,  201 

Mural  decoration,  the  decline  of,  126 
Murillo,  127 


Naples,  201 

National  Gallery,  the,  190 
National  Review , the,  57 
Nelson,  Horatio,  139 
Newbolt,  Frank,  183 
New  Gallery,  57,63,65,  116 
Newman,  Cardinal,  73 
Nordau,  Max,  33,  60,  67 


Ojetti,  Raffaele,  85 
Old  Masters  and  their  colour,  75-76 
Old  Masters,  the  cult  of  the,  76 
“Open-air”  movement,  16 
Oppenheim,  Stany,  vii,  47 
Orchardson,  W.  Q.,  9,  14,  15 
Orientation  of  art,  53 
Ouless,  W.  W.,  10 

Overmantles  at  Lloyd’s  Register,  135-36 


PaCQUEMENT  M.,  vii,  47 
Pall  Mall  Budget , the,  44 
Pall  Mall  Gazette,  the,  41,  63,  115,  192 
Panels  in  Skinners’  Hall,  198,  130 
2 L 


Pantheon,  the,  160 
“ Parerga,”  180 
Paris,  201 

Pattern,  modern  craze  for,  21 1 
Petit,  Georges,  47 
Pettie,  John,  10 
Phillip,  John,  6,  54,  55,  56 
Phillips,  Claude,  122,  202 
Pigments,  action  of  time  on,  98 

flatness  of,  129 

Piranesi,  Giaubattista,  81,  107,  187,  188 

Pissarro,  107 

Pittsburg,  122 

Pochardes,  164 

Portaels,  Jean,  162 

Posters,  difficulties  in  designing,  184 

Poussin,  Nicolas,  119 

Prague,  122 

Pre-Raphaelites,  10,  100,  125 
Psychology,  religious  art  and,  68-69 
Puerta  de  Passages,  visit  to,  24 
Pugin,  Augustus  Charles,  4,  216 
Punch,  192 


Raeburn,  Sir  Henry,  55,  103,  193 
“ Rajah’s  Birthday,”  83  seq. 

Raleigh,  Sir  Walter,  183 
Rapid  work  and  its  pitfalls,  87 
Rathbone,  Harold,  criticism  and  instruction 
from,  10,  1 1 

Realism,  genius  and,  90 
Realists,  compromise  of  Paris  Salon  with 
the,  9 

Regnault,  A.  D.,  50 
Regoyos,  Dario  de,  79 
Reid,  J.  R.,  1 1 1 
Rembrandt,  129,  148 
Renan,  Ary,  33,  48,  63,  67,  71 
Rcpublique  Fran^aise,  4 1 
“Rest,”  60-62,  65,  1 3 1 , 144 
“ Return  from  the  Promised  Land,”  96-97, 
122 

Revue  des  Deux  Afondes,  67 
Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  8,  28,  82,  92,  93,  94, 
102,  103,  178,  193 
Rinder,  F.,  122,  228,  229 
Robinson,  Dr.  Tom,  vii,  62,  72,  219,  223 
Rome,  201 
Romney,  103 

Rossetti,  Dante  Gabriel,  9,  10 
Rousseau,  Theodore,  92,  100 
Rowlandson,  108 

Royal  Academy,  the,  18,  49,  59,  65,  109, 
113,  1 37,  157,  175,  Appendix  I passim 
1 65 


Index 


Royal  Arcade  Gallery,  21 
Royal  Exchange,  136,  137-143 
“RuMiydt  of  Omar  Khdyydm,”  183 
Rubens,  Peter  Paul,  5,  57,  76,  102,  1 16, 
160 

Rusinol,  S.,  79 

Ruskin,  John,  6,  8,  87,  90,  94,  95,  102,  III, 
178,213 
Rutter,  F.,  122 
Rysselberghe,  Theo  van,  79 


“St.  Simeon  Stylites,”  65-67,  122 
Salon,  the,  46,  63,  65,  101 
Sargent,  J.  S.,  8,  22,  79,  121 
Saturday  Review , 57,  221,  227 
“Scoffers,”  the,  122,  229 
Scott,  Michael,  183 

Sir  Walter,  149,  218 

Scribners  Magazine , 181 
Seegar,  E.,  67 
Segantini,  Giovanni,  79 
Serres,  1 1 1 
Sertat,  Raoul,  48 
Sex,  genius  and,  191 
Shakespeare,  William,  151 
Shannon,  J.  J.,  8,  27 
Shaw,  Walter,  1 1 1 
Shelton,  Thomas,  181 

Simon,  Lucien,  affinity  of  style  between 
artist  and,  22 
Singer,  Dr.  Hans  W.,  183 
Sisley,  Alfred,  77,  80,  82 
Skinners’  Hall,  130 

panels  in  the,  149-161 

“Slave  Market,”  a,  49-52,  59,  122 
“ Slave  Traders,”  49,  225 
Smollett,  painter’s  affinity  to,  33 
Somerscales,  T.,  43,  1 1 1 
Sorolla,  J.,  79 

South  Africa,  exhibition  of  sketches  made 
in,  26-27 

South  Africa,  journey  to,  25-26 
South  Kensington,  201 
Southport,  122 

Spain,  painter’s  journey  to,  22-25 
Sparrow,  W.  Shaw-,  183 
Speaker,  158 

Spectator , 44,  58,  144,  230 
Spielmann,  M.  H.,  122,  229,  250 
“ Spirit  of  the  Age,”  the,  183 
Standard , 7,  59,  61,  144 
Stanfield,  Clarkson,  110-11 
Star , 21,  225,  226 

Stevenson,  RLA.  M.,  49-5°)  122,  223 

2 66 


Stevenson,  R.  L.,  33,  45 
Stockholm,  201 
Street,  G.  E.,  4 

Studio  Magazine , the,  23,  122,  125,  249 

editor  of,  72 

Stuttgart,  122,  201 

Sub-conscious,  genius  and  the,  90 

Suffolk  Street  Galleries,  25,  40,  41 

Sultan,  adventure  at  treasure-house  of,  20 

Sunday  Times , 222 

Sunshine,  the  effect  of,  89 

Swain,  Messrs.,  vii 

Sydney,  122 

Sylvestre,  A.,  40 

Symbolism,  modern,  126 


Taft,  Lorado,  64,  65,  66 
Technique,  definition  of,  146 
Thackeray,  William  Makepeace,  and  his 
painter-hero,  “J.  J.,”  3 
Thaulow,  Fritz,  79 
Thurston,  Messrs.,  208 
Tiffany,  Louis,  214 
Times , the,  31,  49 
Tintorello,  58,  68 
Tissot,  James  Joseph  Jacques,  9 
Titian,  68 

“ Tom  Cringle’s  Log,”  183 

Tone,  artist’s  study  of,  28-29 

“Trade  on  the  Beach,”  122,  227 

Truth , criticism  appearing  in,  44 

Turner,  J.  M.  W.,  8,  16,  20,  55,  75,  79,  82,  90,. 

91,  107,  no,  165,  175,  204 
Twopeny,  William,  107 


Uhde,  Professor  von,  56 


VALUES,  critics  and,  98,  99,  100 
Van  Saverdonck,  1 1 
Vedder,  Elihu,  65 
Velasquez,  127,  163 
Venice,  122,  21 1 

“Venetian  Funeral,”  1 13-15,  122 
Veronese,  Paul,  58,  68,  76,  115,  163 
Verheyden,  Francois  P.,  79 
Versatility  in  art,  206-207 
Victoria,  Queen,  62 
Vienna,  201 


Wagner,  Richard,  73 
Walker,  Fred,  10 


Index 


Ward,  James,  193 
Water-colour,  the  beauty  of,  175-76 
Watts,  G.  F.,  9,  64,  66,  139 
Webb,  Sir  Aston,  129 
Webber,  John,  53 
Wedmore,  Frederick,  41,  42,  43 
West  Africa,  expedition  to,  26 
Whistler,  James  MacNeil,  8,  9,  42,  57,  83, 
86,  1 16,  187,  188,  189,  200,  203,  204 
Whitechapel  Art  Gallery,  83,  86 
Wilde,  Oscar,  period  of  enthusiasm  for,  10 
Wilkie,  David,  6,  54 
Wilson,  S.,  vii 


Window  decoration  in  the  Middle  Ages, 
215-216 

“ Wine,”  1 09- 1 10,  162 
“Wine  Shop,”  the,  122,  162-63 
Wint,  Peter  de,  1,  16,  91,  92,  175,  177 
Women,  their  preference  for  the  effeminate 
in  art,  102- 103 
Wordsworth,  William,  82 
World , 26-27 
Wyllie,  W.  L.,  Ill 

Zuloaga,  Felix  de  A.,  79 
Zurich,  201 


THE  END 


Printed  by  Ballantvne,  Hansom  ir  Co. 
at  Paul’s  Work,  Edinburgh 


( 


GETTY  CENTER  LIBRARY  MAIN 

•C  497  B8 ‘ S73  «S 

c.  1 Soarro*.  Walter  Sfta* 

Frar*  Brangwyn  and  Ms  wort  1910  / 


3 3125  00259  3743 


BRENTANO'8 

•ksellrr*  k SUlioaer* 

New  York 


